


Of Juice Boxes and Rainy Days

by LucidClockwork



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Coming of Age, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Feel-good, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character-centric, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 15:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 59,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15222053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucidClockwork/pseuds/LucidClockwork
Summary: She was really just a blank slate; blunt, humourless and antisocial. How could a person be shaped with no deep connections and human experiences? But drifting from one day to the next, Miyamura Megumi learnt of life full of juice boxes and rainy days.-Crossposted to ffn





	1. An Act of Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything but my OC. I'm crossposting this from fanfiction.net~ I'm not going to post all the chapters at once here, so I'll be a few chapters ahead on fanfiction.net. My original notes can also be found there.

On a particularly cloudy Tuesday afternoon, Megumi found her hair standing on end and she wondered whether there would be lightning that night.

Five minutes into last period, the clouds outside her classroom window began to gather in a small cluster towards the eastern skies. The clouds were a grey colour, nearly the same shade as the lead in her pencil. However, Megumi wasn't concerned, a storm wasn't likely to stir until a couple of hours later.

With that reassurance in mind, she refocused her attention to her work and forgot about such concerns.

Twenty or thirty minutes later, she became vividly aware of her squinting, struggling to see in the gradual darkness and glanced outside. The clouds were no longer in a small cluster, but were encasing the sky in dark clouds like a dome. Megumi's hair stood on end more than ever, and a crackle of thunder confirmed her worst fears.

Moments later, it began pouring.

Not spitting. Not drizzling. It was raining so much that Megumi was sure flood-related news would make its way onto tonight or tomorrow's news.

So when classes ended for the day, Megumi immediately made her way outside to check the heaviness of the rain and found that the pelting of raindrops on her hand was almost painful. The rain pushed her hand downwards, and Megumi pulled it back to inspect the redness that began to form in her palm, a red that contrasted the healthy pink.

Usually, Megumi had an unchanging and habitual routine. When school was out, she left school without saying a farewell to anyone unless they said one to her. It wasn't as if she had anyone she wanted to see before the day ended. Although she had acquaintances, she didn't have friends. Her entire life's record wasn't marred with any crushes on her classmates either.

Megumi enjoyed the peace and quiet of her own home. It wasn't a stretch to refer to her as a shut in, but not to the extent of actively shying away from human contact. If anyone wanted to talk to her for some reason, she could hold a conversation like any other person could and said person would leave satisfied.

Well anyway, it didn't look like she would be having that 'peace and quiet' anytime soon.

Megumi lived in a particularly isolated area of the Miyagi prefecture where there was only a single bus route that required her to change buses three times to get home. Her home was far away from Karasuno, yet Karasuno was the closest school to her home. She usually opted to walk home despite the distance, but walking seemed impossible in such dangerous weather.

When the school's population died down to only those that were a part of the club and it was still raining, Megumi came to the annoying realisation that she would have no other option than to wait for her father to finish up work and pick her up.

It was annoying. It was a waste of time. Her father got off work hours after school ended.

But she had no choice, unless she wanted to be struck by lightning or drenched in rain water and neither option seemed appealing. Both options didn't seem particularly safe either.

"It's no big deal, Ryuu! The rain is nothing!"

Instinctively, Megumi stopped before turning the corner upon hearing the voice. It wasn't as if she was trying to eavesdrop, albeit Megumi did have a penchant for it. Curiously, she ducked her head around the corner when no one seemed to reply. It was strange, to say the least.

…Or perhaps this person was just talking on the phone, not really strange at all.

He paused, "…Well, no but it's fine! The rain isn't that heavy! I'll make it through."

Lies. Megumi felt the rain on her palm earlier, and there was no way it  _wasn't_  heavy not to mention it wasn't safe being out in such heavy rain with lightning striking every few seconds. Who was she to say anything though? She didn't know this person, he could do whatever he wanted no matter how stupid. All Megumi needed to worry about was her own safety.

After waiting a few seconds, no reply came and Megumi assumed the boy had left from his spot outside the gym in the courtyard. When she ducked out of her hiding place behind the corner however, Megumi quite literally ran into a short boy talking on the phone earlier. She vaguely remembered was her desk neighbour at some point earlier in the year before seating arrangements were changed, and she hadn't realised it was the same person.

At first, it appeared as if he didn't recognise her which Megumi wouldn't have minded at all. He mumbled a low 'sorry', keeping his eyes on the ground by his feet and not meeting her gaze.

Was he usually a shy person?

From observing the behaviour of her classmates during particularly boring recesses and lunchtimes, Megumi noted that she had never seen him interacting with any girls other than one of their upperclassmen: Shimizu Kiyoko who was the manager of the volleyball club he was a part of, so it wasn't really all that surprising.

He was a boisterous person though, from what Megumi could tell with his interactions with his bald yankee friend and other members of the volleyball club. It was unexpected that he was acting so differently. Could he be shy in front of girls other than the volleyball club's manager? Megumi entertained the thought before she filed it away into the stalker database in her head, and later into the stalker database in her computer when she got home.

"It's fine," she said, waving him off. The words were short and simple, and what Megumi hoped would be the end of short interaction. She eyed his empty hands, noting the lack of an umbrella.

Behind her was an unsheltered area leading out of the school, so he should've pulled out some sort of rain protection, but he didn't. Was he seriously planning on walking through the rain? She may not have known how far away or close he lived, but it was absurd venturing out in this weather.

When Nishinoya began growing visibly uncomfortable under her stare, Megumi snapped out of her thoughts and addressed him.

"Don't tell me you're planning on going out in the rain without an umbrella," she said bluntly.

Nishinoya's eyes widened for a second, before they returned to his naturally blank expression. "You… You're Miyamura Megumi right?" On second thought, maybe he  _did_  know her name. "Thanks but I'll be fine."

His answer was brief, straight to the point like her question. She didn't expect any different, it wasn't like they would make small talk when they hardly knew each other.

Maybe Megumi should've left it at that, Nishinoya said he would be fine so it would be fine but even so, Megumi still didn't like the idea of him going out in the rain unprotected. She pulled out her own umbrella and handed it to him wordlessly.

Nishinoya blinked. "You're giving this to me?"

"Yeah." What else did it look like? It wasn't like she was going anywhere. Nishinoya still looked sceptical of the whole exchange, so Megumi cleared her throat and elaborated. "I have another umbrella, this is a spare."

A lie, but it did the trick. Nishinoya took the umbrella, staring at it for a few second before he gave her a wide grin of gratitude. "Thank you Miyamura!"

Having no more to say, Megumi nodded and parted ways with him. She headed towards the courtyard, and sat down. She wouldn't leave the school for another hour or so, so she made herself comfortable with a juice box and an online novel loaded on her phone.

After a few minutes, her short interaction with Nishinoya was forgotten and pushed to the back of her head.

* * *

 

That is, until she had to walk to her father's car.

It wasn't like she regretted giving Nishinoya her umbrella. He needed it more than she did regardless where he lived.

However, that fact didn't do anything to soothe the redness forming in splotches on her hands and legs. Luckily Megumi had half the sense to wear stockings to hide the red discolouration, but she couldn't do anything about her hands. It shouldn't have been too noticeable, it was just her hands after all.

The appearance of her hands wasn't her main issue though, the dull pain in her skin intensified each time she held a pen which wouldn't be a problem if Megumi wasn't a student, which she was.

As Megumi inspected her palm, she poked and prodded at the sore spots. She winced each time she applied too much pressure, and it didn't help that the sore spots were all over her hands.

Damn her bad luck.

It occurred to her some time around midday that if she wanted her umbrella back, Megumi would have to approach Nishinoya. The thought soured her mood.

It wasn't that he was a bad person or anything, it was rather the opposite. The problem lay more in herself than him, she would react much the same way had she lent her umbrella to anyone else. Social situations had always come as somewhat of a challenge for her. Megumi didn't like the unpredictability of speaking with unfamiliar people, she wouldn't know how to pick the right words to say without sounding like an absolute idiot.

She liked being in control.

Not in the sexual kind of way, but being in control of how exactly something would happen for a certain end result was definitely more desirable than small talk.

Megumi should probably get her umbrella back though, especially with how much rain there was recently.

On the other hand, maybe it was for the best. Eventually, she would buy a new umbrella. It wasn't as if they were expensive, in fact umbrellas happened to be cheaper during periods of frequent rain.

But maybe that was just an excuse to not speak with him again. Megumi hated being in unpredictable situations, situations she had no control over.

Apparently she didn't need to decide or an excuse not to decide, because a week after their initial meeting it was raining again and Megumi found Nishinoya loitering outside the second gym.

She remembered it like the first time too. There was the sound of crackling thunder and disappointment, because she knew she would be left at school for two or three more hours. At first she had lugged around the hallways, however when teachers would keep calling her into the faculty office to help out with a 'few' errands Megumi abandoned the stuffy hallways and greeted the wet, salty scent of outside.

It wasn't as if interacting with teachers was a bad thing. By saying the right things, it wasn't hard to please them and gain their favours. Whenever a teacher asked for a favour, they owed you for it. When you help a teacher out without being asked to, they owed you for it. Teachers were predictable, and easy to win over.

It was the same principle as being a teacher's pet in the eyes of Megumi's peers, but she knew the true intent behind her actions. It wasn't as if she was trying to be manipulative for the heck of it, Megumi knew that teachers owing her favours would benefit her future in the long run. She was exercising her caution, to ensure she had the best chance she could get of living a happy life.

So she wasn't a bad person…

Somehow questioning her morality felt as if Megumi had committed murder, so she just stopped thinking about it altogether.

Outside, the rain wasn't as bad as the last time it had rained. When she held out her palm, only a light drizzle tickled her fingertips. Megumi entertained the thought of leaving the school to walk home. The rain was light enough, and the pain in her hands and legs were covered well. She had also brought a hoodie in her bag as a precaution, in case the rain got any heavier.

For a brief second, it seemed possible.

But then there was a crash of lightning striking the ground and Megumi pulled back her hand on instinct. It didn't seem like she would leave anytime soon. She didn't want to risk getting struck by lightning, no matter how unlikely it was.

Why was there so much rain anyway? It was the end of February, the end of Winter and near the beginning of Spring. Not to mention the weather had been particularly stuffy lately. Rain and humidity? It was a horrible combination.

It was Megumi's luck that she happened to run into a familiar face. As she turned the corner, the silhouette of another formed on the other side of the uncovered area that poured with rain.

A small tuft of blonde hair. Short. Unique eyes.

It seemed like Nishinoya had seen her too, because he leapt off the bench and waved her over, shouting something incoherent over the sound of the rain. It wasn't as if she could leave after he'd spotted her, so she made her way around to him, avoiding the unsheltered areas that smelt of the salty rain.

"Miyamura!" He beamed, and Megumi was taken aback by how it sounded like he had actually wanted to see her.

And she voiced this. "Did you want to see me?" Megumi raised her brow in scepticism.

He shrugged. "I didn't not want to see you."

_So you wanted to see me_ , Megumi quipped to herself mentally. It probably wasn't the case though, at least she hoped not. Megumi wouldn't know how to act if someone expected her to act a certain way or do a certain thing.

Nishinoya sat back down again, and gestured for her to join him, inviting her to sit next to him. Not feeling like declining, she accepted. For seconds, perhaps a minute or so, they sat side by side without a single word exchanged between them.

She wasn't one for small talk, but the silence felt awkward and heavy. The rain hardly made any sound. It wasn't too loud or too quiet, so it wasn't as if the sound of rain was comforting,  _at all_.

It was probably safer to just _not_  speak. That way there was nothing Megumi could risk, whether it was angering Nishinoya somehow or saying the wrong thing. It was always better to choose the safe route, there wasn't always going to be a safety net to catch you if you made a mistake.

"About last time…" He suddenly said. Megumi perked up at the sound of his voice piercing through the uncomfortable silence. "Thanks for the umbrella, the rain was heavier than I thought!"

"No, no!" She said, averting her eyes. "It's fine, it wasn't much anyway."

Oh. Was that how people usually responded? It didn't sound like it, maybe she should have accepted his thanks? Whatever she did say, it made her look stupid and Nishinoya looked at her blankly.

"Oh! What I meant was uhh… No problem?"

No reply. Great. Now she looked doubly stupid. Megumi should probably shut up, yep! Shutting up was the best idea she'd come up with to date!

"…I sound stupid, don't I?"

Or she could just ignore herself too, that seemed like  _bright_  idea.

"No," Nishinoya said simply, shaking his head. "You're a lot different than I expected though!"

"Oh." Megumi blinked, casting a small unsure smile. Was it a good thing? She didn't know. "Thanks?"

What was she doing, panicking like that? This conversation was going downhill quickly. Megumi was ruffled, and words were just spewing from her mouth without her thinking. Megumi was struck with just how awkward she really was.

Unaware of her inner turmoil Nishinoya gave a blank face for a few moments, then he stood up and walked over to the vending machine. It was one of those vending machines that were hardly ever restocked, so everything was almost always sold out. Nishinoya seemed look at the two options that were available, then began to dig around his pockets for spare change.

When Nishinoya came back, he held out his palms and Megumi blinked in surprise, glancing over to what he was holding. Wait why was he holding two juice boxes?

"I don't know if you liked grape juice or apple juice more, everything else was sold out."

I've never tasted grape juice before," she said slowly, cautiously in case he poisoned one of the juice boxes. It was likely her paranoia though, she had watched him purchase the juice boxes and both drinks were still packaged. She didn't understand why he would buy her juice either. Did she owe him a favour now?

"You should try it then!"

Megumi shook her head. "I think I'll take the apple juice just to be safe."

"You should try new things sometimes Miyamura!" Nishinoya pouted, holding out the apple juice to her.

Taking the juice box, she stared at the straw for a moment before she ripped away the plastic packaging and stabbed the box. Why did Nishinoya get her a juice box? Out of the goodness of his heart? Simple acts of kindness almost always came with a price though, so Megumi glanced over to Nishinoya who was fiddling with his phone.

Megumi thought for a moment, how would she word this without sounding too curt? She supposed being direct and simple would work. "Do I have to pay you back for this Nishinoya-kun?"

He sat back down and punched his straw into the juice box. "It's thanks for lending me your umbrella."

Oh, so that was it.

He looked around for a moment then asked, "are you always here after school?"

"No. Just when it's raining."

"Why?"

"Why do you need to—" On second thought, asking him directly seemed like a bad idea so Megumi cleared her throat and discarded her question.

"I can't walk home," Megumi answered, then out of courtesy she continued. "How about you? You play volleyball right? Aren't there club activities on?"

"Nope," he replied, popping his 'p'. He downed the juice in a single gulp and Megumi wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Other clubs use the gym when it's raining."

"Oh."

Megumi looked at him, staring for a few moments. It wasn't as if clubs never switched where they did club activities every once in a while, she didn't know what she was expecting. He was dawdling around, clearly not participating in club activities so what did she think? Nishinoya didn't seem like the type to skip, though that was always an option since she didn't know him very well.

"Are you a part of a club Miyamura?"

Again, why did he need to know? It was getting kind of tiring to question his every action, so Megumi decided to play along for now. It was possible that Nishinoya was genuinely interested in her, but it seemed unlikely. What would he get out of getting to know her? Nobody cared about people that couldn't offer them anything, so why? Why did Nishinoya treat her as if she were an equal?

"I have unique interests. Not enough people share them, so I suppose there are never going be clubs for something like hacking," she answered honestly.

Nishinoya blinked. "Whoa. Hacking?"

Did she say the wrong thing? Oh god, that was what she got for being honest…

Well, there was no point in hiding it now. "Uh, not like security hacking!" Megumi said a bit too quickly. Noticing the pace her voice picked up, she took a breath and slowed down. "I mean, I like hacking video games most of the time. Hacking through security isn't too hard… But I  _don't_!" She emphasised.

"That's so cool!"

"Huh?"

His eyes lit up. "Are you a genius? When did you start hacking? Is it something you can learn off the internet? Isn't hacking illegal?"

Megumi winced but at least it seemed like she hadn't said anything wrong… Answering the only question she caught, she said, "well, I don't think I'm breaking any laws…" She paused, "and what can't you learn on the internet?"

Nishinoya laughed boisterously. "I guess so!"

Jumping from topic to topic, Megumi found herself relaxing. Maybe Nishinoya didn't have any ulterior motives despite her initial belief. Megumi had always been observant, noticing the smallest changes in a person's speech or body language. Those small changes always impacted how someone presented themselves, those insignificant actions to most people held more meaning than a lot of people knew. Nishinoya however was genuine, a clear difference from almost everyone she'd met in her life and she found herself relaxing without even noticing.

"The storm's dying down." Megumi held out her hand in the rain, only feeling a few drops land on her hand between seconds of each other. She stood up, facing Nishinoya. "I don't hear any thunder either."

"You can walk home right?"

"Yeah…" Megumi trailed off and glanced at the phone in her hand. "I did text my dad to come pick me up though."

"When do you think he'll arrive?" Nishinoya asked.

"Maybe in another hour or so?"

Nishinoya paused. It appeared as if he wanted to say something. His hand was clenched by his side, and his eyes were focused and steady. He looked strangely quiet, staring intently at Megumi.

He looked so determined for some reason, was this how he looked when he played volleyball?

"Then—"

"Ah!" Megumi felt the phone in her hand vibrate. "My dad's here."

"Oh."

Megumi raised her brow, throwing her phone away into her bag. "You wanted to say something didn't you Nishinoya-kun?"

"It's nothing." She pretended not to notice the disappointment in his voice, but Nishinoya must have seen the confusion on her face because he gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder that almost made her choke. Well, maybe it wasn't a pat but more of a  _slap_. "I'll see you around Miyamura!"

As she climbed into her father's car, she wondered what he was about to say.

* * *

 

There wasn't really a next time they interacted, because after that day, Nishinoya began to greet her every morning and farewell her every day when school ended.

It did turn a few heads, Nishinoya and Megumi had never interacted before even if they were desk neighbours at one point. No one really remembered that detail though, except for Megumi but it wasn't the fact they had never talked to each before that was the interesting point of the gossip.

"Miyamura-san is friends with Nishinoya-san? You're  _kidding_."

"No really! Really!"

"That sounds  _so_  fake. I've never seen anyone talk to Miyamura unless they have to."

"She doesn't talk to anyone if she doesn't have to either. What a loner."

"No they actually look like they're friends, but aren't they total opposites?"

There were four girls crowding around the entrance to her classroom, talking about  _her_ of all people. Her!

Well, Megumi and Nishinoya weren't friends per say but more like acquaintances. Megumi had trouble identifying just where acquaintanceship ended, and friendship began. Besides it would've been awkward to call Nishinoya her friend if he denied it, so Megumi ultimately decided to play it safe and acquaintance-zone him for now.

But the thought of calling Nishinoya her friend…

She didn't dislike the idea.

Fifteen minutes before class time, it didn't look as if those girls were going anywhere so she stood around the corner and waited for them to leave. It wasn't as if she couldn't ask them to let her pass, or say a simple 'excuse me' but Megumi prided herself on avoiding unnecessary conversation. Making small talk meant that you couldn't predict anyone's reply, and no matter what, Megumi wanted to avoid any situations she had control over. Eventually those girls would move along to their own classroom, and she'd be able to pass through.

"They're both kind of short… Maybe they relate to each other because they have height complexes?!"

"T—That would be too funny!"

"Eh? Isn't that kind of like Lovely Complex?"

Why were they focusing on their heights of all things? Lovely Complex, what was that? An anime?

From as far as Megumi could tell, only she had a height complex but if Nishinoya did too… She wouldn't know. Either way just as her waiting time had hit the ten-minute mark, a fifth girl was suddenly added to the mix.

The fifth noticed her around the corner, glancing at her and then narrowing her eyes. "Could you be... eavesdropping?"

No, but Megumi didn't reply. This was bad, now the original girls knew she'd heard everything and Megumi wouldn't be able to avoid confronting them.

This was definitely an unprecedented predicament.

A few of the original four girls gasped in surprise, peeking their heads around the corner where she was and gawking. The fifth girl suddenly looked apologetic. The girls around the corner hissed to themselves, barely coherent but Megumi could hear them anyway.

"Crap, she heard us?!"

"What an invasive little—"

The fifth girl glared at them and they scampered away to their own classroom. Wait, none them were in her class? Why were they standing around her classroom in the first place? To check her out? But she wasn't even _in_ the classroom, so what were they doing there?

The fifth girl laughed sheepishly, and Megumi took a few moments than longer to take her appearance into mind. She was average height, sporting thick framed glasses and waist-length black hair that was tied around her midback and resting against her shoulder. She looked like the class-representative type, and she probably was. She wasn't in Megumi's class though, so there was no way Megumi could've ever known about her existence.

"I'm sorry about giving you away," she said, "it didn't seem as if you wanted to confront them, right?"

Megumi figured she owed the girl for shooing away the gossipers, so she gave her a small thanks, nodding and entering into her classroom. Surprisingly, the idea of owing the girl didn't seem as frightening as it usually would. Megumi wondered if she'd gotten enough sleep the previous night before.

Being friends with Nishinoya, huh?

It had always just seemed as if the idea of having friends was a foreign, impossible thing to grasp; much less actually make friends. Megumi wasn't whining that she was a lonely damsel-like shoujo protagonist. No, she was just saying things for how they were. However, Megumi had never seen having friends as a necessity. She was fine by herself.

There was no real way to tell between a genuine person and someone who wanted something from you. Even if liars had small quirks when they lied, some people were just naturals. It was better to just be alone. It was safer.

But it would be nice… Having friends…

It was a bother though, a lot of people misinterpreted their interactions. Some people thought they were unlikely friends, which wasn't exactly wrong. Some people thought they were secretly dating, which was entirely wrong.

No matter what she said though, Megumi knew she would fuel the rumours further, so she just didn't even bother to comment on the topic. This only served to make her out as a coy girlfriend that wanted to keep people guessing, nothing she could do about that though.

Later that day after school, Megumi found her mind looping back to that incident and she wondered why it was bothering her so much. People were always going to gossip, that was a given. Megumi wasn't exactly  _used_  to being a topic of gossip, she was more so used to the random observations of her behaviour and certainly not gossip that revolved around both her and somebody else. She was a loner, even in conversation. Her name was almost never mentioned in the sentence as somebody else's.

"Is there something wrong Miyamura? Do you not like cranberry juice or something?"

"No, I was just thinking about something." Megumi squeaked, squeezing her juice box so hard that the juice squirted from the straw onto her face. She coughed and spluttered, wiping her face with her sleeve. Nishinoya guffawed, trying to hold back his laughter.

Megumi's face burned with embarrassment as she cleaned up the juice with the tissues he handed her.

That day, it was raining again. This time however, the rain was so heavy that rooves began leaking on the top floor classrooms and both gyms in the school were closed for maintenance. Megumi suspected damages from the rain. There was no lightning flashing every few seconds like the other times, but there were the occasional low rumbles of thunder in the clouds.

"So a match huh?" Megumi mumbled, Nishinoya handed her some spare change and watched her for a moment as she punched some numbers into the vending machine, pulling out another cranberry juice from the collecting port.

"The third years aren't with us anymore," Nishinoya said, fondness in his voice. "So we have to win this. No matter what!"

Megumi wanted to ask 'why?'. If the third years had already retired and graduated, there was no pressure to do their best but perhaps Nishinoya's motivation was beyond her realm of understanding.

"Volleyball…" Megumi said absentmindedly. "Volleyball… Hmm."

Megumi had never been too interested in sports in general, she'd tried playing volleyball in her first year of middle school when clubs were compulsory. It had been a small interest at first, her father loved volleyball and often came home to watch volleyball matches on the TV so she was curious to see what the sport actually was.

But volleyball was much more exhausting than it had looked on TV, and Megumi quit after a week.

Seeing Nishinoya so passionate about volleyball was a strange feeling, like watching yourself in an out-of-body experience. Megumi wondered if maybe,  _maybe_  if she had stuck around with volleyball for just a little bit longer she might have grown to love the sport.

But 'what ifs' weren't actually what happened, so it was a waste of time to think about.

Megumi wondered if she could ever grow as passionate as Nishinoya about something.

"Are you a regular Nishinoya-kun?"

"Yeah! Sort of. I'm a libero!"

A libero… What was that again? Megumi laughed, perhaps it sounded forced or exaggerated. It sounded like it in her ears, but Nishinoya didn't seem to think so. "…I see!" Did it sound like she knew what she was saying? "Well good luck, who are you playing against?"

"Dateko."

Did he mean Datekougyou Koukou? Or was Dateko some slang term for the school she hadn't heard about? Either way Nishinoya appeared to space off for a bit, deep in thought.

Who knew what he was thinking? But the fact that he looked so deep in thought probably meant that the game meant a lot to him. Not knowing what to say, Megumi averted her eyes and drew circles on the wood of the bench beside her.

"You'll win right?"

They were three words. Technically four words if contractions were removed, but those three words were reassuring. Nishinoya looked at her and then he…

Smiled.

"Me— Miyamura… Yeah. Of course we will!"

Perhaps it was his genuine gratitude and sincerity, but Megumi found the gesture extremely embarrassing for some reason. Her ears felt hot, and she combed her hair over them to cover any redness. Luckily it was long enough to do that…

"I want to learn more about you," Nishinoya said absently, maybe he'd even said it as an offhanded comment. He slurped his mango juice without thinking too much about it, and Megumi's face grew even warmer than her ears. When he did notice her lack of reply, he looked surprised at her stunned face. "W—What is it?"

"I should be asking you that. What do you mean?" Megumi asked cautiously, the wavering in her voice betrayed her guarded tone.

Nishinoya repeated his words to himself before his jaw went slack and he waved his hands wildly. The gesture was somewhat reminiscent of a helicopter. "Oh. OH…!" Nishinoya looked away, flustered for a moment but maybe it was Megumi's imagination, because he appeared to be fine the next moment. "I'm just saying though, I only know that you can hack. Tell me something else about yourself."

Of course Megumi knew that was what he meant, it was still embarrassing nonetheless.

What could she tell him? That she was paranoid as hell? That she didn't have any close friends? That the reason she didn't have any close friends was because she was paranoid as hell? The fact that Nishinoya was her closest friend and he'd only known her for a week or two was already kind of depressing. She couldn't share any stories about her family either, she didn't have a very family-like relationship with her father. So what could she…?

Thunderstorms.

"… I used to be scared of thunderstorms," she said, "I live in a big house, so thunder usually echoes. It always sounded so loud… I was huge wimp back then."

Nishinoya shook his head. "That's not true. There's no reason you should think that! You're not scared of thunderstorms anymore right?"

"Yeah, I guess so…"

"I also happened to be a huge scaredy cat when I was a kid too!"

Out of all the things Megumi had expected him say, that wasn't one of them. Nishinoya took her silence as a confirmation to continue, so he did. He seemed almost embarrassed, giving a faraway look of nostalgia.

Nishinoya stared at the ground for a few seconds, then into the rain. "Well it's not like it matters that much." He grinned sheepishly. "The point is that we're not scared anymore right?"

Right.

Because Megumi had gotten over her fear of thunderstorms, she had stopped waiting for someone else to save her from the noise. Megumi had always seen that time as a happier time, after that she'd stopped depending on other people. You couldn't trust anyone, all you had to rely on was yourself.

For the longest time she attached her fear and happiness together, but she had moved forward and grown independent. Perhaps it wasn't a bad thing, to stop relying on other people for the sake of her own happiness. She knew her sceptic behaviour wasn't healthy, but maybe it was how she'd move forward in her own way. At least she knew that being paranoid was miles better than being weak.

Nishinoya's words struck truer than he'd probably ever know.

But as her phone started vibrating in her lap, she cut off her next thought and glanced at the green messaging icon that two simple words.

'I'm here.'

Perhaps it would have been relief at some point, but Megumi was genuinely disappointed their conversation had been cut short. They'd talked for over an hour, yet it had felt like five minutes.

Nishinoya didn't take a glance at her phone, but he seemed to understand its contents. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah…" She trailed off, hoisting herself off the bench and glancing around at him. "How do you usually get home Nishinoya-kun?"

"I walk home with Ryuu most of the time! But sometimes I walk with my team."

"Ah." By 'Ryuu', she assumed Nishinoya was talking about Tanaka Ryuunosuke. Megumi grew puzzled, if he walked home with Tanaka then where was he now? He should've also been somewhere at school, stuck like Nishinoya and her were. "Where is he anyway?"

"Ryuu? I don't know, he always disappears when it's raining."

So even he didn't know, well it wasn't an important question anyway.

"We pass by the Sakanoshita store a lot." Nishinoya added. "The Gari-Gari-kun popsicles are the best!"

After disposing of his juice box (his sixth juice box), he offered to walk Megumi to her father's car which she politely declined. It wasn't as if she was ashamed to be seen with Nishinoya, but she knew her father would jump to conclusions and possibly maul Nishinoya. It was for his own safety, probably.

Nishinoya however, insisted to walk with her to some point so they met each other in between. He walked her to the entrance of the school building, where they were both still under shelter and the thunderstorm had died down somewhat. The rain had somewhat dissipated too, and Megumi found herself not needing her umbrella.

"How are you going to get home?"

"Who knows?" He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, but puffed up his chest confidently. "I'll find a way though!"

Megumi rolled her eyes, holding out her umbrella. "Here."

Nishinoya looked at her questionably, before he took the umbrella graciously and grinned. "Thanks again Miyamura!"

"Just give it back to me the next time you see me." She turned away and stepped into the rain. She glanced over her shoulder one last time, figuring that she owed him at least somewhat. For being her friend, even being as paranoid as she was. "Make sure to win, Nishinoya-kun."

Nishinoya gave a blank look before he grinned brightly and laughed. Megumi felt her cheeks tighten too, like she was about to laugh alongside him. She gave a quick farewell and parted.

When she did arrive at her father's car, parked a little ways away from the school entrance, her father stared at her strangely. Megumi wrung off any excess raindrops out of her hair, before stepping in. He was silent for a moment, then turning to her.

"You look happy. Did something happen?"

"Nothing too major," she replied, tugging on her seatbelt. "I just talked with someone for a bit."

"Did you make a friend?"

A friend… huh? Could Nishinoya be considered a friend? Where was the point when Megumi could call him a friend with no words of anything of the sort exchanged? Did Nishinoya consider her a friend? Did they cross the line and become more than mere acquaintances?

"Why do you want to know?" Megumi asked casually, with an underlying threat beneath the surface.

He didn't reply.

Instead her father chuckled, and twisted the keys into ignition. Her father said no more, and no more words were needed. The silence between Megumi and her father was often filled with unsaid words. Silence often felt out of place and stifling.

But after the few days, after Megumi found herself company she didn't know she wanted, nothing could bring down her spirits.

* * *

 

A few days later, it was raining again.

School days were the same as always, yet different. Lonely hours during recess and lunchtimes were unchanging, and the offhanded comments about Megumi being a loner wasn't an unregular occurrence. At some point earlier in the year, the comments may have offended her.

The gossip about Nishinoya and herself was dying down too. It was becoming old news, perhaps it was a good thing.

Megumi figured her mindset had changed somewhat. School didn't feel as boring.

She often caught herself with wondering thoughts about Nishinoya. When would they talk again? Did Nishinoya actually enjoy talking to her? Was she a boring person to spend time with? Did he ever get tired of her distrustful personality? Thoughts that were unimportant and irrelevant in the past suddenly meant more to Megumi than before. She didn't usually care about how others viewed her, but Nishinoya suddenly had a face and Megumi wanted him to like her as much as she liked him.

Not romantically of course, but Megumi wanted a mutual level of appreciation between Nishinoya and herself.

Megumi thought she was acting a bit clingy sometimes, though she knew she wasn't being  _physically_  clingy. Was being mentally clingy even a thing?

Megumi had honestly found school to be refreshing after becoming (somewhat?) friends with Nishinoya. It was a strange feeling, to view everything a little bit differently all because of one person. It was almost embarrassing to admit. These days she felt lighter, the only person she ever interacted with regularly was Nishinoya.

She let down her guard around him. He was genuine and sincere, it was a quality Megumi had almost never seen in anyone else. She didn't find herself questioning his every word, she didn't constantly look between the lines to try and find a hidden motive behind sugar-coated words.

Nishinoya was a breath of fresh air from her usual paranoia, and Megumi couldn't say she disliked it.

That day was a little different. It was still raining, like before but there wasn't any lightning or thunder. The rain wasn't heavy either, so it was possible for Megumi to walk home but she had given her umbrella to Nishinoya.

It wasn't too much of a hassle though. She'd stuffed a hoodie into her bag to change into if it ever did start raining and she didn't have an umbrella. Megumi trusted Nishinoya to give back her umbrella whenever he wanted to, so she wasn't too worried.

When she had gotten to the school gates however, Nishinoya and another stood there waiting. For her perhaps? Megumi didn't raise her hopes too much, but when Nishinoya waved at her, it confirmed her suspicions.

"Miyamura! I have your umbrella!" Nishinoya held out a familiar, battered black umbrella that Megumi took with a small 'thanks'. She pulled the hoodie off her head, releasing her short hair from its prison. The umbrella felt much more like a shelter than her hoodie, so she stripped it off and threw it into her bag.

"Who is this?" Megumi asked, not liking the presence of an unfamiliar person.

He stared at her, not saying anything and Megumi found it hard to say she wasn't slightly unnerved by his intimidating expression. She didn't let it show though, raising an eyebrow and appearing unperturbed, her own method of intimidation.

Nishinoya and the other boy were standing relatively close to each other, and were even talking before she'd arrived so they knew each other. Who was he? Nishinoya only ever hung out with two people excluding the volleyball club, her and—

"Are you Tanaka-san?" She asked, her voice a mix of sweetness and carrying a hidden message of 'that-sort-of-thing-won't-work-on-me'.

Tanaka leaned back, and Nishinoya poked him in the side. "This is Miyamura, she's pretty cool isn't she?"

"Oi, oi, oi." Tanaka's eyes flashed deviously. "Do you think you can just—"

"Ryuu!" Nishinoya interrupted, "She's fine. Don't worry."

Was Tanaka a yakuza member? The more he talked, the more it seemed like it. Megumi took a step back, seeming somewhat casual but holding a guarded posture. If he attempted anything, she'd be ready to either run away or fight back.

Tanaka glanced over at him. "Hey Noya-san, are you sure about this? I don't like this girl."

Wow. Rude. It was almost as if he'd forgotten she was right next to him. Was it because she wasn't as cute and friendly as other girls? Megumi was a little hurt, but she didn't let it bother her. This was someone she didn't know, there was no reason she had to let his opinion of her get to her. Megumi crossed her arms and looked away.

Why didn't he like her though? What had she done to get on his bad side?

Upon seeing the dismayed look on Megumi's face Nishinoya zapped Tanaka's side, and Tanaka slapped his hands over where Nishinoya had zapped him. His face was twisted painfully, as if was resisting the urge to laugh and giggle. Nishinoya looked over to her and grinned confidently. "Well I like her! And you'll like her too once you get to know her!"

Did Nishinoya realise how cool he sounded to her? Megumi cleared her throat, looking away to hide her burning cheeks. "Uh… So! I think I should get walking now! I'll see you around Nishi —"

"Wait, hold up Miyamura," Nishinoya said, "which way are you going?"

Tanaka gave him a strange look. "Don't tell me you're inviting her to walk with us."

"Huh? That isn't it, is it?" Megumi asked, her eyes flickering between Nishinoya and Tanaka.

Apparently it was, and Megumi found herself flanking his left side while Tanaka flanked his other side. It wasn't as if she could avoid walking with them, she happened to be heading the same way as them, at least part of the way.

Tanaka also happened to not be a yakuza member, much to her hidden relief. He just liked scaring people, for one reason or another.

Megumi also didn't mind walking with them, she had initially thought Tanaka had not liked her but it seemed like he didn't have a problem with talking with her. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, it was a common thing, overthinking.

"I don't hate sports," she said, answering one of Tanaka's previous questions. She glanced down at her juice box, orange flavoured. Nishinoya and Tanaka were staring at her expectantly, so Megumi elaborated. "I know more about volleyball than any other sport though. Probably because my father loves it."

"So which is cooler then?" Tanaka asked, suddenly growing gravely serious. "A libero or a wing spiker?"

Nishinoya seemed to perk up too, curious of Megumi's answer. What was the safe answer here? Somehow answering one or the other seemed like a bad idea and Megumi was at a loss to what she should say. Please Tanaka? Or please Nishinoya? Both outcomes had her dismissing the other, so instead Megumi asked, "why do you need to know? I'm not an expert."

"It doesn't matter though." Nishinoya pointed out, pressing onward. "Which one do  _you_  think is better?" Megumi laughed nervously, dancing around the subject.

"Never really thought about it."

"Maybe you should think about it!" Nishinoya said, a glint in his eyes. Tanaka turned to him in question, and Megumi reacted much the same way. "A libero connects everyone together, guards everyone's back." He gave a thumbs up, grinning in that carefree yet confidant way of his. "That's what I do! I'll definitely protect everyone!"

After that, Tanaka was silent and even Megumi was silent. While Tanaka was awestricken, Megumi was amazed at how he could dedicate himself so much to volleyball when it could only provide a single sentence on your resume.

This was probably what people meant by passion.

To Megumi, she'd never done anything out anything but future benefit. Even her 'dream' for the future felt half-assed in comparison to Nishinoya's dedication.

"N —NOYA-SANNNN!"

Nishinoya blushed and backed away, waving his hand wildly. "Hey what are you—"

"You're just… so awesome!

"Why're you crying?!"

Honestly Megumi couldn't blame Tanaka, she was about to tear up herself. Nishinoya appeared to catch it though, and his face suddenly lit up as much Megumi's did.

"A —A—And you! Why are you crying as well?!"

"I'm not!"

"You are!"

When Tanaka and Nishinoya passed the Sakanoshita shop, Megumi declined their offer to come inside and instead waited for them outside. She didn't have any reason to come in, and walking with them already felt as if she was invading their friendship even if Nishinoya had invited her to come with them. From her spot outside, she had a perfect view of sun setting over the horizon so she was content to be left alone.

They'd been walking for a little over half an hour on the way back to their respective homes. Tanaka apparently lived right around the corner from the shop, so he would part ways with Nishinoya and herself when they left the shop. Megumi still had a little ways to go, she didn't live over the mountain near the school and on the other side of town, but she lived somewhat near the base. She wasn't quite sure about Nishinoya, but she didn't expect him have very much longer until he had to part ways with her as well.

So after leaving the Sakanoshita shop, Tanaka farewelled Nishinoya and Megumi and disappeared around the corner.

About five minutes after, when Nishinoya and her had walked through a park on a rising hill he stopped. "How much further do you have to go from here?" He asked, chewing his popsicle stick.

"Uh… I think I have to walk for maybe another twenty minutes?"

Under the street light that hadn't turned on yet and the darkening skies, Megumi couldn't quite catch the expression on his face. It changed into something like concern, but it was far too dark to tell. "Don't tell me you're actually going to walk there by yourself. Do you want me to walk you there?"

Megumi glanced upwards, just as the street lamp lit up and illuminated the area surrounding them in a soft glow. It wasn't as if she wasn't used to walking home alone, she was far too used to groping her way through pitch darkness back to her house than she would care to admit. There were too many stories of traumatising things happening to girls walking alone at night, and Megumi had dealt with the fact that there was no way she could avoid danger and get back home before her father did.

"But you live around here don't you? Why would you bother? Wouldn't it be a hassle to walk twenty minutes there and back? It's dangerous for you to be walking alone as well."

Nishinoya thought for moment. "I still don't like the idea of you walking alone though, aren't there any other ways of getting home?"

Megumi was a little unfamiliar with the area, seeing as she had taken a slight detour so she could stay with someone for a little longer. She glanced around, noting the number of people that lived in the area.

"Is there a bus stop nearby? I could take a bus the rest of the way."

Nishinoya nodded, leading Megumi to a stop down the street around a corner. Arriving at the lit up resting area, she patted the seat to check if it was dry before taking a seat. Strangely, Nishinoya took a seat next to her. He closed his umbrella and shook off the excess rain, like she did, and propped it up against his seat.

"You don't have to stay with me Nishinoya-kun," Megumi said awkwardly, "you live around here, so isn't it annoying to just be out here?"

"You aren't annoying though." He pointed out.

Megumi shook her head. "That isn't what I meant, but… Thank you… I guess."

—For making sure she was safe, for wasting his time to stay with her.

When she was on the bus, she watched Nishinoya wave her goodbye from the bus stop and she wondered why someone would go that far for someone they'd only just met. Sometimes she wondered if becoming friends with Nishinoya was a little too good to be true.

She arrived home to an empty house, her heart feeling a little lighter.

* * *

 

The next time it rained, Megumi didn't see Nishinoya. She wondered how his game with Dateko went.


	2. Clear and Unclear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megumi realises she has no plans for her future, meanwhile Nishinoya deals with the aftermath of the Dateko game and Asahi's shattered confidence.

Despite the guidance counsellor requiring Megumi to take career counselling, it was not in fact, with the guidance counsellor.

The vice principal sat across from her, fixing his toupee over his head in a blatant attempt to be subtle. It wasn't as if Megumi hadn't known about the vice principal's baldness. It was common knowledge among the student body, but watching the artificial hair piece shift around unnaturally,  _alone_ , and  _in person_ , was a different story.

Megumi sat stiffly, uncomfortably, and waited to be addressed. The vice principal's office was dark and dusty. The light outside barely filtered through the dirty windows, and dust danced around in the light that did. The dustiness tickled her nostrils, and she resisted the urge to sneeze. The atmosphere was unsettling, to say the least, especially since the vice principal hadn't said a word since she'd seated herself in the only unoccupied seat in the room.

Each time he looked up at Megumi from the pile of documents on his desk, she tensed herself in preparation for whatever he would throw at her, but then he would lower his gaze back to the documents.

Could those documents be about her? She suspected so. She spied her school photo in his pile of documents. Light brown hair that was wavy at the ends, and black crisscrossed hair pins on the left side of her scalp. It was unmistakably her.

It was as if he was scrutinising her, had she done something wrong? She hoped not.

The vice principal stared at her again, then shook his head in dismay, toupee slipping off his head at a sharp angle before he hurriedly fixed it upon his head. He shot her a side glance.

She pretended to not see.

After what had felt like hours of silence, the vice principal finally spoke a remark, albeit with veiled reproval.

"You excel in Japanese and English Miyamura-san," he said, "you do quite well in Social Studies too."

Megumi waited for the 'but'.

"Your grades may be good." He continued. " _But_  you do understand your lack of extracurricular activities is detrimental to your choice of career paths, don't you? Honestly, your resume is looking quite bland at the moment."

Like cold water, the feeling of dread washed through Megumi's body. First rushing through her head, the feeling trickled down her spine and then tingled numbness in her arms and legs.

She had already known for quite some time. Grades weren't everything after all, but hearing those words spoken out loud was like a slap in the face. Megumi had been brought back to reality as quickly as the dread had filled her.

"And here." The vice principal slipped one the papers across the table in front of her.

"My career plan?"

"That's right," he replied. His finger repeatably tapped the blank space on the career plan, as if tapping the space once wasn't enough to capture her attention. "What do you want to do in the future?"

"I… I don't know." She mumbled, lowering her eyes to her clasped hands. Away from the vice principal's field of vision, Megumi could see her hands under the table, sweaty and shaking. The humidity in the room may have been a contributing factor, but Megumi's anxiety far outweighed the temperature of the room.

"Not at all?" he asked, peering at her over her career plan. "Not even a faint idea?"

"No." Megumi repeated in confirmation, wiping her sweaty palms with a scrunched-up section of her skirt. Megumi unfurled the cloth from her fingers, smoothing out the wrinkles ever so slightly and fiddling with the hem of her skirt. She refused to meet the vice principal's stare and after a while, he finally accepted her answer albeit reluctantly.

"That's no good." The vice principal sighed, getting up and leaving his spot from behind the desk. He stood by the dirty, fogged up glass of the window; not turning around to her. Megumi's gaze raised from her lap, following him as he inspected whatever was happening outside in the schoolyard. "Why don't you join the soccer club? Then you can at least put down 'teamwork' as a skill."

"I'm not very athletic, sir," Megumi said shakily, cursing her nerves.

"Cooking? Shogi? Light Music? Art? You don't have to like it to do it."

As much as Megumi wanted to refute him, she remained silent. It wasn't as simple as the vice principal had made it out to be. 'You don't have to like it to do it'? No, it was far more complicated. What was the point of forcing herself to commit to something she hated? Not only was it disregarding her choice in the matter, it was disregarding everyone else in the club that was committed to something they loved.

"I'm not interested in anything else but my grades." Megumi's eyes flickered to the vice principal by the window, before they flickered back to her lap. Her hands tightened their grip, sweat sticking her skin together. "But if there was a literature club then I'd be happy to—"

"Miyamura-san." The vice principal interrupted tiredly. "The only choices are the ones that are available. You  _can_  start a new club if you wish to however."

"N—No… That's okay." Megumi refused, wincing at the blunt dismissal.

There was no way she'd start a new club. Not only did it take effort to recruit members, but the club wasn't guaranteed to succeed at all. Megumi stared idly at the vice principal, hoping she wouldn't test his patience.

He simply sighed, almost as if he'd expected her answer.

"You don't know what you want to do, and you don't have any extracurricular activities you can list on your resume..." He trailed off. "You're a promising student Miyamura-san, but unfortunately, if you don't try to stand out you won't. It isn't enough to just follow the path that's been laid out for you, you need to have a clear view of what you want to do."

A clear view, huh?

If anything, the clearest view of her future was following in her father's footsteps, but it was still a path her father had already carved. The vice principal wasn't asking Megumi what she  _would_  do, he was asking what she  _wanted_ to do.

It was almost her second year of high school, there was almost no time left. What could she do but follow her father's footsteps? Was it too late to create a portfolio? Too late to learn an instrument? Too late to question the life she'd already lead?

Did she really have the privilege of choice anymore?

What  _did_  she want to do?

As if reading her mind, the vice principal raised a brow, the creases in his forehead wrinkling. "Well it's not too late to decide a career Miyamura-san. Take your time and think about it."

They were encouraging words but said with such disinterest it was almost insulting.

"It's almost time," he said, glancing towards the clock above the sliding door. "You should try to consider a club, or even just try having a clearer vision of your future. I'll give you a month to think about it. Be sure to see me some time after the new school year."

Megumi nodded. "Pardon me then."

The vice principal straightened the stack of documents, shuffling a few loose sheets back in place. Megumi stood up slowly, the seat of the chair hitting the back of her knees and pushed backward with the small screech of its legs against the floor.

She bowed to the vice principal, a formality. "Thank you, Sensei."

As she turned to leave, the vice principal called out to her. "Oh, if you see Suzuki-san, invite her in."

Megumi paused. "Suzuki?"

"Suzuki Kaede, she's a first year like you. You should be able to recognise her."

She figured another display of incompetence would look pathetic in front of the vice principal, so Megumi nodded mutely, stiffly making her way to the door. Who was Suzuki? Was it someone she knew? She felt something tickling her brain, as if she should've known who Suzuki was. It was a common name, so maybe Megumi really didn't know her. It was useless to rack her head to find the source of such vague familiarity.

Perhaps Suzuki would be on the other side of the door, if the principal was expecting her, she should be somewhere nearby anyway. Megumi's fingers brushed the cold metal of the sliding door, and her hand wrapped around the indented metal. It was cool to touch, despite the humidity in the room and the dried sweat on her palms.

She couldn't afford to waste any time if she wanted to search for a future career, a decision that would be entirely her own. Was it really that bad to walk a path that was decided for her? Megumi just didn't see any problems.

Would following her own ambitions be any better?

"Who cares about the other guys?!"

The vice principal was beside her in a second, throwing open the sliding door and shouting into the hallway. Nishinoya stood right outside, back turned and fists clenched by his side. Megumi leaned out the doorframe, watching him look up towards a much taller second year. Was Nishinoya picking a fight? Or was the second year picking a fight? Either way, fighting right outside the vice principal's office was like having a punishment handed out on a silver platter, so Megumi rushed to stop him.

She stumbled out the vice principal's office. "Nishi—"

"Hey, who's shouting?" The vice principal shouted, pushing past Megumi and reaching to grasp Nishinoya's shoulder. "Don't cause a scene in the hallway!"

Nishinoya ignored him, eyes still trained on the second year as they turned to leave. Even after the second year was walking away from him, Nishinoya continued to stare after the broad back of his retreating upperclassman. From the entrance of the vice principal's office, she couldn't quite see the expression on his face, but his tensed shoulders and clenched fists told her everything she needed to know.

He was upset, and possibly  _very_ , _very angry_.

She hesitated to confront him.

"Asahi-san!" He called after him, making a move to follow the second year.

The vice principal placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey—"

"Shut up!"

_Smash!_

* * *

 

"Nishinoya-kun, calm down—"

"Shut up!" Nishinoya growled, pacing around the locker bay. His hand was in his hair, either pulling or combing chunks of hair in frustration. His knuckles twitched, as if readying to punch something. Megumi took a step back cautiously, not willing to risk the chance of becoming his target. Nishinoya wasn't in the clearest state of mind, so Megumi gave him enough space to cool his head. "Damn it! Damn it!"

After breaking the vase outside the vice principal's office, Nishinoya had guaranteed himself an expulsion, a detention if the vice principal was lenient. However, considering how stern he was Megumi seriously doubted the latter. At the time, she was panicked, not thinking straight. She just knew she  _had_  to pull him out of the scene.

What for though? There were at least more than a few witnesses, including the vice principal himself. There was no way that dragging him off would get him off the hook, so why? Why did she do it?

Would she be punished now too? The thought sobered Megumi's rising panic quite effectively. If she was to be punished anyway the least she could do was calm Nishinoya, so he wouldn't dig himself into a deeper grave.

"I know you're angry, but you're being too irrational! Please calm down." Megumi pleaded, hoping to get through to him.

Pacing, Nishinoya walked down the row of lockers. He stormed past each locker like hurricane, only stopping when the wall blocked his way. At first, he said nothing, did nothing. He stared at the wall, back turned to Megumi.

With his face hidden from her view, Megumi could only wonder what was racing through his head. He was surely furious, as he had been for the past few minutes. However, before she could do anything Nishinoya himself broke the silence, causing her to jump in surprise.

He punched the locker beside him, and Megumi winced at the sound of his knuckles hitting the metal violently, and perhaps very  _painfully_ , but Nishinoya ignored the surely aching discomfort in his bones. He lifted his clenched fist from the locker and punched it again with the side of his enclosed hand. For a split second, Megumi spied the dent in the locker, shaped like his fist.

She swallowed a lump in her throat.

Hopefully she wouldn't end up like the locker door.

"I don't care!" He yelled furiously, and Megumi flinched at the volume of his voice, echoing throughout the empty locker bay. "This is only between me and Asahi-san! You have nothing to do with this Miyamura!" Nishinoya jabbed.

"It does involve me!" Megumi argued, surprising herself with her retaliation. "Do you know how selfish you're being right now? You're dragging the vice principal into this, and myself! Your actions have consequences you know?"

"That isn't my problem!"

"Nishinoya-kun please! Calm down and think about this!"

Nishinoya lashed out again. "I said that I don't care!"

"Whether you care or not is irrelevant right now!" Megumi snapped, taking a deep breath before she continued. "All you're doing is getting yourself into trouble. I'm not asking you to calm down, I'm telling you,  _you need to calm down_."

In the heat of the moment, the volume of her own voice had raised. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears; she paused to calm herself down. What good would it do if she didn't practice what she preached?

As Nishinoya riled himself up to retaliate once more, Megumi threw away her hesitation and slammed her foot down, stepping closer to him. The sound echoed throughout the empty room of lockers, much like his yell from earlier. If he wouldn't acknowledge her words, she'd force him to.

As much as she hated to manipulate him, this was for his own good. She'd have to assert her confidence, or he'd never listen to her.

Megumi almost expected him to refute her again, but he appeared strangely compliant. Nishinoya looked down at the ground, then back up at her. His mouth was set in a straight line, frowning, but not. She knew he wanted to say something, judging from the creases in his brow and subtle bobbing of his throat.

He looked conflicted for a moment, but it appeared as if she'd finally gotten through to him.

Nishinoya closed his eyes and exhaled. The tension left his shoulders first, then his arms. He unclenched his fists and let them flop uselessly by his sides. Nishinoya fell backwards onto the bench defeatedly, arms folded over his knees and gaze lowered to the ground.

Then he started crying.

"N—Nishinoya-kun…?"

"Damn it…" He mumbled lowly.

It wasn't as if he was blubbering, there wasn't snot running down his face, and he wasn't sniffing. It was solemn, sincere. He didn't make any moves to hide his tears, or perhaps he simply didn't have enough energy left. The tears ran down his cheeks freely, leaving streaks of his liquid anger and sadness in their wake. The tears hung on the edge of his jaw until they finally grew too heavy, falling to ground between his feet.

The sight of Nishinoya like this was heart-wrenching. The boy who had always been so confident and boisterous had been broken down to the point of tears. It was at that moment that Megumi finally realised just how hurt he was.

Megumi was almost tempted to ask, what exactly  _happened_? What was Nishinoya's relationship with Asahi? But no matter how concerned she was, she was still an outsider. She didn't want to be too nosy, so she treaded on eggshells. As far as Megumi knew, it was a sensitive topic, something he wouldn't talk about unless he wanted to.

It wasn't as if she expected him to talk about it. Perhaps Nishinoya felt better talking to Tanaka about things like this, and that was fine.

Suddenly, Megumi felt terrible. This really  _had_  nothing to do with her, and she'd butted in and demanded he'd explain himself. She felt the cold hand of regret gripping her heart.

On the other hand, she really hadn't tried to find out what happened. Megumi had been trying to fan out the flames, minimise the damage that had already been done. Was it really okay to poke her nose any further than this? He wasn't lashing out anymore; she'd achieved her original goal.

But…

She couldn't pretend to  _not_  notice how much this affected him, she couldn't ignore how deeply hurt he was and yet, she had no idea what to do.

No, she couldn't leave him like this. Clueless or not.

Megumi felt the stiffness in her facial muscles soften, and she took a seat beside him, not saying a single word. This was a situation she'd never been in before, what could she do to lessen whatever emotional pain he was going through? It wasn't the time to think about the best possible course of action, this was different from an exam. All Megumi could do was to comfort him to the best of her abilities.

"Here, Nishinoya-kun," Megumi said awkwardly. She felt around her skirt pocket, pulling out a wad of tissues that were conveniently sitting on her person. She handed one to him, and he took it graciously.

There didn't need to be a thank you, not right now.

Instead Nishinoya cracked a small smile, albeit weaker than usual. "Do you just have extra tissues in case this ever happens Miyamura?" He joked, wiping his eyes.

"Uh… No! W—Well um… no." Megumi stammered, glancing away from Nishinoya.

How awkward.

Megumi coughed before she corrected herself. "I mean! I don't really have any friends, other than…  _you_ … so I've never really been alone with someone crying…"

"I see," Nishinoya said to himself quietly, so quietly she almost didn't catch it. She watched him grip the tissues in his hand tighter than necessary but decided not to comment. He was obviously trying to get his mind off the fight, what good would it do to remind him? "I wasn't really asking for a serious answer though."

"O—Oh." Megumi felt the tips of her ears flush in embarrassment, suddenly very sensitive to the strands of hair brushing against her ears. "I should learn to take a joke huh?" she said weakly.

"No." He shook his head. "It's not a bad thing. I like that you're serious Miyamura!"

"…Thank you Nishinoya-kun."

Soon after, Nishinoya fell into the quiet secrecy of his thoughts. His light-hearted expression had only lasted a few seconds, and now the crease in his brow and downcast eyes were back.

She did nothing to break the silence between them. Something at the back of her mind told her it was the right thing to do. Megumi didn't waste any energy questioning that small voice, and simply listened to it without question.

Her paranoia may be her best friend, but her paranoia wasn't always right.

"Hey Miyamura," he said quietly, so unlike his usual self. "It's wrong to just give up isn't it?"

What a strange question. From her previous experiences, she had given up plenty of times. Success without guarantee was a warranted reason to give up, but it depended. There was no point in chasing an impossible goal but giving up on a reachable goal was the fear of failure taking over. What did Nishinoya want to hear?

In a way, Megumi understood why giving up was always an option. What was the point of fighting a losing battle? Even if it was something you supposedly loved, there was no feeling of gratification that came with failure. Just doubt, and hatred.

This wasn't an anime, it wasn't always the default to never give up. It was human to give up.

Her usual self would reply with a disagreement. Giving up was perfectly fine, even in fear.

However, that self was useless in a situation like this.

"It all depends on the person, really," Megumi replied honestly, lifting her legs to her chest, and hugging her knees close. "How much they care about what others think, and their own determination... Why do you ask Nishinoya-kun?"

Nishinoya crinkled his nose, staring unblinkingly into the distance. Whatever was bothering him was bothering Megumi, it was rare to see Nishinoya so unlike himself and she didn't like it, not one bit.

Nishinoya ran his hand through his hair, hiding his face and any discernible emotion. Megumi had never seen him so sombre, so she was hesitant to speak. What could she say in a situation like this? Nothing sounded right in her head, and whatever did wouldn't sound right in reality.

But she had to say  _something_. That much was obvious.

"You  _can_ talk to me about it," Megumi said, looking at him from her peripheral. She paused for a moment, then added, "it might help. Maybe a little."

Megumi had figured he'd be better off getting it off his chest, whatever it was. So she had offered him an outlet. There was no doubt in her mind that he needed it, but it did nothing to stop the anxiety prickling beneath her skin. What had affected him so much that had brought him to the brink of tears?

And was Megumi really prepared to help him shoulder his problems?

"Yeah. I think so," Nishinoya said, almost sounding like he was smiling through his tears.

Could you hear a smile in a voice? It seemed impossible but there a slight breathiness to his words, it was something Megumi had never noticed.

When his downcast face turned to her, it brought Megumi back to reality.

He was… confiding in her. Megumi, of all people.

"I—I couldn't follow up at all, but Asahi-san blames himself for everything." He confessed. "Is it wrong for him for to give up? Well of course I think is! Even though I… Even though I messed up… I just can't forgive him for being so selfish! He's not supposed to be thinking about stuff like his spikes not getting through, because I'm supposed to be the one to give him another chance."

Nishinoya paused, sighing. For the first time, he finally looked up and Megumi could see the pain in his eyes shining clear, the rims red and puffy. "For him to just throw away the receives I give him… I can't forgive him…"

It was almost as if he was silently pleading with her, begging for a straight answer. Despite how Nishinoya reasoned how he couldn't forgive Asahi, Megumi read his true feelings between the lines.

_I don't want him to give up. I want him to spike again._

To begin with, it wasn't her place to provide him an answer. Megumi closed her eyes, ignoring the wave of questions that threatened to implode her brain. It didn't feel right to give him a 'what if' scenario, or a weak solution despite her urge to resolve his emotional turmoil. In the end, he wasn't asking her for advice. He was asking her for a way to reach the resolution.

Who wasn't to say Asahi had grown to hate volleyball?

A magical solution to his problem wasn't something she could give him.

"He can't just give up and quit the club," Megumi said slowly, unsurely glancing away. "Doesn't he love volleyball? Doesn't he love spiking? You want to hear me reaffirm you right? That's probably what you want, I think."

Nishinoya looked away, and Megumi felt the edges of her mouth curve into a forced smile. She'd hit bullseye, didn't she?

"There are things only Asahi-san knows. I can't really… tell you what you want to hear, Nishinoya-kun. All I can do is give you advice. In the end, it's all up to Asahi-san. Whether he decides to give up volleyball or not. All you can do, is try to convince him he's really doing what he wants."

It was hard. Much harder than the idea of 'giving advice' had ever been to Megumi. She couldn't lie to him though. Despite the part of her that feared his contempt, a larger part of her knew it was the right thing to say.

False hope, was far worse than the truth.

"I guess…" Nishinoya started. "I already knew that."

He stared away distantly, and it was almost as if Megumi wasn't there anymore. She waited for him to continue, but he never did.

Nishinoya dropped the topic, and she was left questioning her own words. It wasn't as if Nishinoya had outright disagreed with her, but Megumi figured she'd given him an answer he wasn't looking for.

Hoisting himself off the bench, Nishinoya didn't turn to look back her. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, not sparing her another word as he left. With his absence, the locker bay suddenly felt emptier. Megumi sat alone for a while, lost in her conflicted thoughts.

It was selfish, but she wanted him to reassure her; reassure her that he would be okay. There was so much left unsaid, and Megumi couldn't help but wonder if she'd just made everything worse.

Worried and at a loss, Megumi eventually got up herself. She walked down the row of lockers, past her own locker, and to the locker at the very end of the row next to the wall. The indent of Nishinoya's fist remained prominent, and she lifted her hand to brush over it, tracing the outline of where the damage ended.

He must've been… really hurt.

She knew that, but… How deep did it really run? Megumi knew how much volleyball meant to him, and how much his role as a libero meant to him.

" _I'll definitely protect everyone!"_

How much pressure did he put on himself to fulfil his role?

Feeling a chill crawl down her spine, Megumi glanced around the locker bay, unable to shake off her paranoia.

Was someone watching her?

* * *

 

Soon after Megumi's first year ended, her second year began. However, it wasn't a thought that was at the forefront of her mind. With so much unresolved tension between Nishinoya and Asahi, Megumi had consumed herself in worry, and wondered listlessly and dazed into her second year of high school.

This concern was by no means unusual, but the circumstances were much different than anything Megumi had ever experienced. She felt little to no concern for her own self-preservation, but rather for Nishinoya.

Over the spring break, her final words to him had replayed in her mind repeatedly, taunting her. She'd basically told him: 'figure it out yourself'. Did Nishinoya despise her uselessness? Megumi certainly did. Despite how much he'd done for her, she couldn't even manage to be a proper friend.

Could they… even be considered friends anymore?

The thought gave her fear that felt much too cold. It was paralysing, like an icy, chilling hand with its fingers around her throat. The fear left her gasping for air.

As much as she wanted to peel that frightening feeling away, there was nothing Megumi could do. Nishinoya remained suspended and would be until sometime later that month. Nothing could be done until he returned, so for the time being, she attempted to quell her anxiety for Nishinoya.

The first few weeks of Megumi's second year passed slowly, almost painfully. It was just so  _boring_. She'd never seen school as particularly fun, but she'd never seen school as a chore. Recesses and lunchtimes dragged on longer than necessary, and days went by without anything really happening at all.

Megumi had no idea how she'd managed in her first year. These days, all she really craved was human interaction. Loneliness… had never really been an issue in the past…

Aside from that, there was only one other way Megumi could occupy herself. As difficult and uncertain as it was, it wasn't a bad idea to follow the vice principal's suggestion and look into what kind of clubs to join. Megumi wasn't prepared to  _join_  one, for the time being, but if it reaped benefits in her long-term future, there really were no downfalls.

In other words, Megumi was currently searching for a club to join.

It was a good time too, especially since it was the new school year.

Reflective of her internal hysteria as of late, the school seemed more frantic than usual. The hallways were filled with students and became harder to navigate than usual. Megumi recalled a similar occurrence during the early weeks of her first year. It wasn't surprising, after all, clubs were trying to snatch as many first years as possible.

Despite being a second year Megumi wasn't in any particular club, or rather the 'going home club' as everyone had mutually dubbed it. So, the pandemonium of club recruitment was aimed towards her as much as any first year. Had Megumi not been forced to think about her uncertain future, the hallway congestion would have been much more bothersome, but she found herself surprisingly thankful this year.

"Hello!" A girl called, waving over Megumi to the side of the halls. "Might you be interested in the photography club?"

Politely, Megumi took the flier from the girl's hands. "I'll consider, thank you."

There was an extra bounce in the girl's step as she skipped away, and Megumi skimmed over the flier for a brief second. The flier consisted of basic information about the club and its activities, but she didn't find herself too interested. Photos were just photos, right? Either way it seemed like a waste to throw away the flier, so she held onto it for the time being.

She'd already decided to join a club; the only question now was which club?

There was also the student council… It was always a viable option, but Megumi found herself veering away. Leadership roles had never been too interesting, more than anything, it wasn't a committee an introvert like Megumi would ever consider joining. There were probably  _some_  introverts in the student council, however she didn't plan on being one.

There was the newspaper club too. Strangely enough, the club's official promotion flier had its club name nowhere to be seen. In the end Megumi figured it was some kind of error of the club's part, but what kind of club forgot to put their own club name on the flier?

It appeared as if the newspaper club wouldn't be receiving many applicants this year.

By the time she completed a round of the hallways, her arms carried a neat stack of fliers. There weren't many clubs she considered joining, but the selection wasn't exactly  _bad_.

Programming seemed easy enough. Megumi already had experience in hacking, so it wasn't a bad idea to consider joining the programming club. Albeit a small part of her argued that programming was  _nothing_ like hacking, Megumi ignored it. Other than that, she considered the photography club, newspaper club, gaming club and chemistry club.

Despite narrowing down her choices, Megumi couldn't just  _decide_  straight away. It was a difficult choice after all. She was joining a club purely for its benefits on her resume, a club that wouldn't be too time-consuming, but interesting enough to justify her effort.

Just what kind of club would she end up joining? Megumi could only wonder.

It wasn't long before classes started. The crowd in the hallways dispersed, and Megumi headed to her new class.

* * *

 

Other than the changed classes and the second-year title, not much had changed. She wasn't in the same class as Nishinoya anymore, that much was obvious. She'd been placed into the college prep classes she'd failed to get into the year before.

It was disappointing, in a way.

Megumi should've been happy, she was in an advanced class after all. It wasn't as if she wasn't pleased with herself, she was, but it came with a bittersweet feeling. This was what she wanted wasn't it? Why was she so unenthusiastic?

The achievement just felt empty, perhaps even lacklustre.

Regardless, she didn't bother trying to reason with her emotions. Feelings didn't always make sense, not as reliable as some may think. It was easier, and much more logical to focus on the facts.

That particular reasoning was the exact reason why she couldn't ignore the facts. Nishinoya had finally returned, and Megumi found her emotions running rampant. Her anxiety swelled in her chest, nervousness bubbling noisily in her head. She couldn't deny she was still worried sick. Nishinoya was fine, wasn't he? Everything was resolved between Asahi and Nishinoya, right?

Although Nishinoya had only apparently been suspended for a week, he'd been banned from his club activities for an entire month, according to unreliable rumours at least. He  _was_  still attending school, but the thought had never occurred to Megumi. She didn't trust the rumours, nor did she see him around the school. They were no longer in the same class, so there really was no reason for them see each other at all.

But he was here. At school.

There was no way they could avoid seeing one another forever, even if they weren't actively trying to avoid each other.

That day, Megumi hadn't been doing anything in particular. Classes ended after last period as always, and Megumi should've walked home and taken the bus like any other day. Sure, it wasn't raining at all, but she'd remained at school. She could've easily walked to a nearby bus stop, but she found herself loitering around instead. There wasn't really any real reason, but she just didn't feel any urgency to go home.

No matter what time she returned home, her house would be empty anyway.

With a lemon flavoured juice box in hand, Megumi navigated the school until she finally reached an open area in the courtyard. A single tree protruded from the ground in a concrete pot that doubled as a seating area. Other than Megumi, the courtyard was completely empty. So she seated herself, scrolling mindlessly on her phone.

With the school day coming to a close, Megumi found the school gates packed with students, swarming in massive numbers. The presence of so many people made her feel flustered, and without a second thought, she'd abandoned the gates in search for a quiet location. No matter how much she tried to avoid attention, the loud crowd of people seemed to follow her wherever she went.

It wasn't as if anyone was  _actually_  following her, but rather it was the presence.

However, that presence appeared to vanish after a while. The courtyard was devoid of any other person but her. It made sense, why would you stay at school if you could go home?

It probably applied to everyone, except Megumi.

"M—Miyamura?"

The voice was familiar. She knew who it was right away, but she willed herself not to turn around for reasons even she didn't understand. The everlasting nervousness and worry twisted around her heart much more than ever, and the anxiety she'd been suppressing for weeks suddenly surged in tenfold. With stiff muscles, Megumi turned her body to him ever so slightly. She could see his feet, but some kind of unknown pressure denied her a look at his face.

She'd been feeling this emotion for weeks. Was it… fear? Megumi didn't understand. What did she fear? Why was she scared? Megumi knew she was perceptive, much more than someone would normally be, but why did she dread it at a time like this? Did she not want to see how he was really feeling?

"Oh. Nishinoya-kun… you're back."

His feet were kicking the concrete in front of her, and several small pebbles glided across the floor from under the soles of his shoes. It was a sign of awkwardness. Even without looking at his face, Megumi cursed herself for looking too deeply into his actions.

"Yeah. I've been back for a while."

"And so I've heard."

The silence pursued for a moment longer. Nishinoya didn't reply, and Megumi felt her lips going dry. The last time they'd seen each other was in an empty locker bay. He was crying his eyes out, distraught over something she couldn't possibly understand and she, worried sick over his show of weakness.

It was just…  _wrong_ … Of course, Megumi was aware that Nishinoya was human. Humans weren't emotionless, even she had feelings despite her lack of any real companionship. So why? Why did she fear Nishinoya wouldn't be himself?

It occurred to Megumi that maybe, maybe she felt fear because Nishinoya had grown important to her.

"Look, Miyamura I—"

Before he could finish, there was the sound of footsteps. Somebody was running towards them, judging from the brief intervals between the steps. Megumi finally looked up from the ground and glanced past Nishinoya's thoughtful expression. The boy that just arrived was slightly taller than both Nishinoya and herself, with messy orange hair that was as bright as the sun.

Nishinoya looked somewhat annoyed at this boy however, and turned his head towards him.

"U-Um…!" The boy slowed down, rubbing the kneepads that were wrapped around his knees. Were they volleyball kneepads? It meant that he was a part of the volleyball team, the same one Nishinoya had been banned from. Megumi glanced at the boy that suddenly seemed to stiffen, as if he realised he was intruding on something.

"Hm?" Nishinoya appeared frustrated, for some reason.

"Ah?! I'm sorry, should I come back later?" The boy asked worriedly.

Nishinoya glanced at Megumi for a brief second before he addressed the boy again. "It's fine. You don't mind, right Miyamura?"

Megumi shook her head in agreement but shuffled away from Nishinoya and the other boy to give them space.

The boy stiffened as he turned to her. "I—I'm H—Hinata Shouyo! I'm a first year!"

Sensing Hinata's nervousness, Megumi unconsciously laughed awkwardly to put him at ease. He looked like was about to vomit. Talk to him casually. "Oh Hinata-kun then?" Hinata nodded in fear. "I'm Miyamura Megumi. I'm a second year, so I guess I'm your senpai."

"N—Nice to meet you Miyamura-s—senpai." Hinata stuttered. Did she make it worse?

Regardless, he turned to Nishinoya and addressed him.

"Y—You're a libero, aren't you Nishiya-san? You're a defensive player."

"It's ' _Nishinoya_ '." Nishinoya correctly, an annoyed tone still reverberating in his voice. "And why do you think I'm a libero? Because I'm short?"

Nishinoya took a seat on the concrete tree pot next to her, and Megumi looked away awkwardly. It wasn't as if volleyball terms were unfamiliar to her, she did play volleyball for in middle school albeit for a week. If anything, she was the one intruding, not the other boy. She wasn't a part of the volleyball club, so she shouldn't be here.

Hinata seemed surprised at Nishinoya's response. "Huh? No… You're just a good receiver."

Megumi didn't miss the surprised appreciation in Nishinoya's widened eyes. Hinata continued, innocently and straightforwardly. "Libero is a position for good receivers, right? U—Uh that's right. Isn't it?"

"…You… really know what you're talking about huh?"

Hinata buzzed at the positive feedback. "A—And plus! The captain called you the Guardian Deity!" He chirped happily.

Guardian… Deity? What kind of nickname was that? Was it a volleyball term? It wasn't one she'd ever heard of…

Before Megumi could think too deeply into it, Nishinoya spluttered next to her. His cheeks lit up darker than any part of his face, an embarrassed blush making his face glow. Was he—?

"G—Guardian Deity!? What the h—heck is that!?" Nishinoya looked over to her for a brief second before he whipped his head away from her. His hand reached to the back of his spiky head, rubbing it sheepishly. Then he looked back at her, his face somehow burning even more than before. "Miyamura, don't laugh at me!"

"Don't worry I'm not." Megumi deadpanned.

She couldn't deny that she wanted to though. Despite her successful cover up, Megumi couldn't stop the small smile from slipping onto her lips. Who knew that Nishinoya had such a susceptibility to praise? It was almost…

Cute…

"He's j—just exaggerating!" Nishinoya continued in an attempt at modesty. His words came out jumbled and mixed up in his failure to hide his embarrassment. "I'm not really all that…"

Nishinoya trailed off and paused.

"…Did he really say that?"

Hinata nodded eagerly, and his eyes shone in pure admiration.

Nishinoya's covered his face with his hands but even with his face obscured, Megumi could see the red contrast between the skin of his face and his hands. He really was vulnerable to compliments, wasn't he? How interesting… It wasn't a side of him Megumi had ever seen before.

Somehow, it felt like she needed to take a mental note for the future, so she did.

"But I don't care if he calls me such a c—cool name like the Guardian D—Deity. I won't come back so easily! Damn you Daichi-san!"

Come back? Did Nishinoya mean the volleyball club? Did he leave? Megumi's concern skyrocketed, and the uneasy feeling in her gut returned. Were things still rough, even after these past few weeks? Megumi shifted uncomfortably on the spot. She couldn't just bring it up now, she wasn't even a part of this exchange. For now, she would keep it to herself and settled with twiddling her thumbs in her lap to ease her worries.

Hinata suddenly seemed to deflate a bit. "I'm still lousy at receiving." He mumbled. "Even if it's the most important skill in volleyball…"

Nishinoya looked up as Hinata stepped forward. Even Megumi perked up. Determination shone brightly in his eyes, almost as bright as the sun.

Huh. Hinata. Sun. His name literally meant 'sun'.

"So please teach me how to receive, Nishi—" Hinata paused. "Nishinoya-senpai!"

Nishinoya gasped in shock (or perhaps joy), practically fainting on the spot. Megumi gaped too, albeit for an entirely different reason than Nishinoya. Did he… really like being called senpai  _that_ much? It wasn't as if it was wrong to like being called 'senpai' but honestly, Megumi lost a small bit of her respect for him, not going to lie.

Oh well, it wasn't as if it was  _that_  bad. It was just unexpected.

Nishinoya gripped his knees tightly. His expression was darkened from the angle of the sun to his brow. It was almost comedic, as if he was barely about to hold himself back from bursting with excitement. "You…"

With Nishinoya's hand on the Hinata's shoulder, the latter recoiled in surprise.

"After practice… I'll make sure to buy you ice cream," Nishinoya said lowly.

Hinata blinked. "Eh?"

"Because I'm…" Nishinoya paused, taking a quick breath. "Your senpai! You got that?!" The blush was back on his cheeks as he proudly pointed to himself. Megumi gave him a small clap on his back in sarcastic approval.

"… _Nice job Nishinoya-kun_ …" Megumi dragged out the syllables of her comment, her hand leaving his back. Her expression remained unchanged and neutral and Nishinoya turned to her with an embarrassed grin.

"Aw, come on Miyamura!"

"You must be  _so_  happy huh?" Megumi continued her charade, not even twisting her expression to appear genuine  _at all_.

On the other hand, Hinata seemed to glow in happy excitement. He let out an involuntary gasp and gave a grin so wide and pure that Megumi honestly felt her heart being moved by his unadulterated joy. His eyes sparkled, and his hands lifted as if he wanted to grab Nishinoya and hug him. "Does that mean?!"

"But it doesn't mean I'm going back to the club though," Nishinoya said, hand on his hip and finger pointed at Hinata to keep him an arm's length away. "I'm just going to teach you how to receive. That's all."

What a tsundere… Megumi kept her mouth in a thin, straight line. For the moment, she didn't feel like calling him out. All she could feel radiating from both Hinata and Nishinoya was pure joy and love for volleyball, and honestly, it was contagious.

It might just have been Nishinoya's influence, but there hadn't ever been a time where Megumi had tried to stop herself from cracking a smile or a laugh. It was different, but it wasn't a bad feeling.

"Thank you!" Hinata bowed deeply, and his voice was filled with uncontained excitement.

Behind Nishinoya's back away from the eyes of Hinata, he gave her a small thumbs-up in some kind of reassurance. It was a small gesture that didn't mean much, but Megumi sighed in relief. The knot that had been sitting in the pit of her stomach unravelled, and the tension she'd gotten used to vanished almost instantly.

This. This was the reassurance she wanted to hear.

_I'm okay._

Megumi smiled, brighter than she'd ever smiled before. Despite the fact that Nishinoya couldn't see her, and despite the fact that she probably looked like an idiot.

He would be okay.

* * *

 

**EXTRA SCENE**

"I've been wondering…" Hinata said, idly holding a ball between his hands.

Nishinoya looked up from where he was stretching on the side of the court, his drink bottle sitting on his left side. "What is it, Shouyo?"

"Are you and Miyamura-senpai dating?"

Nishinoya's face exploded in colour. "N—No! We're not dating!"

Next to Nishinoya, Tanaka snorted. "Definitely not. I bet Noya-san wants to though."

"N—No I—"

Tanaka waved off Nishinoya. "I was joking! They've only been friends for about a month, so definitely not."

Hinata looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh. I just thought they looked really close."

"We're just friends!" Nishinoya nodded his head wildly. "Nothing more than friends."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teacher wants me to handwrite my 15-paged assignment rippp
> 
> Date of Publish - (09.03.2018)


	3. Passion and Merit: Inspiring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megumi takes a step forward towards her future.

As a sixteen-year-old girl, turning seventeen by the end of the year, Megumi considered herself to be completely out of touch with her own generation, and that was putting it lightly. In elementary school, she frowned upon the flowery lies of unicorns and fairies, often told by parents to impressionable little girls. In middle school, she ignored the dreams of her female peers; to find a charming husband, to find value in skin-deep beauty. Instead Megumi looked ahead to a future she could be proud of, and one her father could also be proud of. She was very mature for her age, at least that's what her teachers often told her. It was no surprise Megumi was isolated by her peers. She was an outlier, outcasted by even other outcasts.

Even in high school, Megumi had never found a single person that shared her values. Sure— when most people graduated to high school, they grew less frivolous. It was the time when people realised adulthood was rapidly approaching; expectations from your parents rose and the pressure and stress threatened to break your mind into pieces. However, did that mean she would suddenly be surrounded by the friends she never had? Of course not. The childhood she had spent alone stunted her social development; not knowing how to approach people and in turn, growing too detached for anyone to approach her.

That was probably why it was so surprising when she slowly but surely became friends with Nishinoya.

There were definitely no guidelines to follow, so initially, Megumi hadn't known how to comprehend— not Nishinoya— but rather their  _relationship_. She had been  _so_ cautious at first; careful of what she said and careful not anger him. Perhaps her diehard habits of tiptoeing around her father had adverse effects on her psyche. It wasn't as if her father was physically abusive or anything— of course not, but she'd grown far too used to hiding herself; trying not to stand out, staying as quiet as humanly possible, pretending not to exist. Naturally, her paranoia had stemmed from her own antisociality.

And it occurred to her that maybe— just maybe, this antisocial behaviour she'd developed wasn't healthy.

So she dipped a foot out of her comfort zone, testing the waters with the only person she considered a part of her support network: Nishinoya. She hadn't planned to confront him in that quiet locker bay that day, but she had. Now, Megumi had decided to approach him with a question of her own.

"Huh? What club you should join?"

"Yeah." Honestly, she didn't exactly want her question to be answered with  _another_ question. But what did she expect? She wasn't asking a question like: 'should I eat an apple or an orange?'

"I don't know," Nishinoya replied simply.

She appreciated his honesty at least. After a moment of Megumi's raised eyebrow and awaiting silence, Nishinoya shrugged casually, spinning a volleyball on his index finger without much success. The ball constantly wobbled in the air off his finger and barely span, but he persisted half-heartedly.

"I know you like hacking, so maybe the programming club?" He suggested. "Maybe the student council? Oh! How about the boys' volleyball club? You can be one of our managers!"

"No, I don't want to," she replied immediately, watching as Nishinoya wilted where he stood. "No offense Nishinoya-kun, but I'm not interested in volleyball at all."

Well, she had been interested at  _one point_ , but that time had long passed. When was the last time she touched a volleyball? Her first year of middle school… so that was… four years ago? At the time she'd found spiking more delightful than anything else in volleyball; the complete opposite of Nishinoya, a  _libero_. In any case, she wouldn't become a manager; simply because the passion she held for volleyball was in no way comparable to Nishinoya, Tanaka or Hinata.

Not that she'd tell him that.

"You don't know that yet!" He protested. Needless to say, his attempts to persuade her were done in vain. Had she even told him that she  _used_  to play volleyball? It was only for a week, so probably not.

Well anyway, she didn't reply to him.

Nishinoya scratched the back of his neck, placing the volleyball down next to his feet. For mere moments, the rain settled into a light, steady rhythm. Not too loud, nor too soft. The air wasn't too humid, nor too chilling. It was purely contentment and peace, something she'd come to associate Nishinoya with.

Nishinoya was loud, spontaneous, anything  _but_ peace; and yet that's what she felt around him: peace.

She sipped her juice box quietly, staring out into the open courtyard stretched beyond them. She was deep in thought, and Nishinoya was too. Sitting side-by-side outside the gym where he usually trained, this was a routine they'd both grown used to.

"Just do something you like Miyamura!" He must have noticed the unsure look that appeared on her face, because he placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be fine! You're just overthinking!"

He was somewhat right… There was no use in overthinking, but she did have justified reason to be worried. It had already been a few weeks since the new school year had started up. The vice principal expected her to see him soon with a club application, and she still had  _nothing_. No idea of what she wanted, indecisive, lost; Megumi hadn't made any progress and the longer she waited, the more restless she became.

In retrospect, there was a lot  _more_  she could've done this past month. Instead of procrastinating and sitting around uselessly, Megumi could've dedicated even just a few minutes to making the right choice; a choice she wouldn't regret. Regardless, she couldn't change the fact that she'd wasted time. The only thing could do now was decide and decide she did.

To make a short story short, Megumi had officially joined a club a day or two afterwards.

Honestly, she didn't even  _remember_  how it happened. Her memory of joining was nothing more than a blur, and she hadn't considered that club before she joined  _at all_. There were a couple of things that had lead up to her decision and even then, it had just been… out of a whim.

Although she had done some scattered thinking over the previous night, Megumi hadn't quite expected her club to come to her. She was sure she'd either be a part of the photography club or even the programming club by the end of the week, instead she was in a completely  _different_  club.

She figured she'd end up doing  _something_ , just not like this.

Amakawa Yuuki was never someone Megumi would consider 'flashy'. In fact, he was probably the complete opposite. He didn't stand out, not in the way a delinquent with dyed hair or a gal girl would at least. With an all-around average appearance and long, dark unruly hair; Amakawa looked far too normal to have caught her attention. He had never been in any of her classes, nor was he obnoxious enough to scream out his presence every time he entered a room. He wasn't in the typical 'popular' clique, so there really wasn't any reason she should know him.

So how did she know him?

The answer was she  _didn't_ , and it had been that way before that day.

She remembered making her way down to the courtyard with slow, paced steps; not rushing nor dawdling. It was lunch time, and Megumi had been counting her coins carefully as she headed down two flights of stairs. Orange juice was usually two hundred yen. Apple juice: three hundred yen. If she purchased a yakisoba pan for lunch, she was only left with one hundred and fifty yen; not enough to afford even the cheapest of juice boxes.

The other option was a carbonated soft drink which was one hundred yen. However, those soft drinks were cheap for a reason; they were  _revolting_. The only reason people usually bought those soft drinks was to have a legitimate excuse to skip class. No one could handle those soft drinks without throwing up. More likely than not, the soft drinks had probably expired at least a decade ago.

In the end, she headed back to class with only a yakisoba pan in hand and a depressive cloud of disappointment hanging over her head. Had there been a group of people Megumi regularly sought out, her sour mood might have been miniscule to them. 'It's only just food,' they probably would've laughed. It was a good thing that was  _not_  the case, so Megumi could sulk all she wanted.

She'd only taken six hundred and fifty yen to school that day, so she had no one but herself to blame.

It had been something as insignificant as that. As a mere high schooler, Megumi  _wasn't_  rich. Heck, she could barely even afford basic school stationary. She didn't have a part time job, believing she could use her time more productively by shopping for groceries or cleaning the house. Her father's wage was just enough for Megumi to afford the bare necessities, recreational shopping or spending was a luxury she had never even dared to think about.

Well anyway, she hadn't been engrossed in too terribly important thoughts when she'd met Amakawa Yuuki for the first time. If she had to describe him based on her first impressions, Megumi would've said he was absent-minded, clumsy or even  _stupid_. But then again, she'd probably seen him at a bad time.

She was so absorbed in her trivial depression— the fact she was too poor to afford a damn juice box— that she didn't notice the rising crescendo of shouting as she approached the top of the stairs. Nor did she notice the bizarre level of aggression she was unknowingly walking into. Megumi was  _observant_ ; it was a fact she'd never denied. However, in that moment she was not, and it proved to be extremely...  _fatal_.

"Can't you do it this— this little  _thing_  for me?!"

"Oh! Give it up!" A feminine voice startled her, just as Megumi had reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner. By the time she did register what she was hearing, it was already too late.

At least… for her food.

Before she even had time to blink, the yakisoba pan had been slapped out of her hand rather forcefully. It flew into the window, the plastic wrap tearing as it caught on the sharp threshold of the glass window. The yakisoba fell out of the bun and stained the white walls brown. The colour reminded her of something…  _unpleasant_.

Megumi could only stare; blankly at the messy pile of yakisoba noodles next to the wall; stonily at the bread that lay neatly on top of the pile; expressionlessly at the blank-faced boy and the girl that stood mortified nearby.

The boy, hand still frozen in the air and eyes semi-wide with shock, could only manage a small, "well, crap."

"A—Amakawa..." The girl laughed nervously, her voice was strangely high pitched with a mixture of fear and hysteria. "Oh my god, what have you done?"

It became obvious—  _very obvious_ — that in a situation like this, Megumi couldn't her blow her fuse. The girl and the boy, Amakawa were glancing at each other anxiously. Whatever animosity between them had vanished almost instantly, replaced with the sheepish grimace of two children caught with their hands in a cookie jar. It was almost laughable, if only it hadn't been for the price of her lunch.

Most people probably would've thrown a tantrum; snap at Amakawa and the girl for costing them a lunch. However, Megumi wasn't  _most_  people. Sure— she was angry, furious even; but she possessed something most people didn't: self-control and rationality. It wasn't that she was kind, or anything like that; it was just that she could see past her own rage. Losing her cool may have only accelerated the severity of the situation. It was just a yakisoba pan, so what? Was it worth the potential hostility of two of her peers?

Of course not.

Exhale.

Inhale.

And  _breathe_.

"…Right," Megumi finally said after a long silence. Amakawa and the girl seemed surprised at her lack of antagonism. "We should probably get this cleaned up."

The girl glanced at her for a moment, then did a double take. "You aren't mad…?"

"Oh no, I'm really  _mad_ ," Megumi replied without much edge. The girl shut up after that.

There was a hint of a smile on Amakawa's face— whatever that meant. Did her comment to the girl please him? It was weird, but Megumi decided not to point it out. Whatever their relationship was didn't really concern her.

"That face is  _really_ unnecessary Amakawa!" The girl hissed. Then much to Megumi's surprise, she pulled up her sleeves and began to clean up the mess. The noodles stained her hands in a disgusting coat of yakisoba sauce and Amakawa turned away to stifle his laughter at the scene. Her face crinkled, and she lurched back in revulsion. "Hurry up and help me!"

Megumi took a step forward and reached to place a hand on her shoulder. "Wait, hold on. You don't need to—"

"…It's fine," Amakawa said after a while. He sounded monotone, but surely enough he also began to pull up his sleeves. His earphones popped out of his ears, disappearing into his pants' pocket as he hurriedly stuffed them in. Even though he had seemed completely dismissive of the girl, he regarded Megumi with a different, more  _respectful_ look. "It's our responsibility, isn't it?"

"B—But…"

When he crouched down to help the girl clean up, he shot a somewhat snide remark to the girl. She didn't seem very amused though, aiming a handful of yakisoba noodles at his face. It wasn't hard to dodge and Amakawa laughed at her, commenting on the embarrassment showing on her face.

It was no surprise Megumi was dumbfounded. By standing around awkwardly and watching them get their hands dirty, Megumi almost felt as though  _she_  was supposed to be the one on the ground, either grovelling or being laughed at. It wasn't that she was a masochist or anything, but how she felt pretty much summarised the extent in which she overthought things. She wasn't to blame or anything, but she still somehow expected the finger to be pointed at her.

Maybe she was just really pessimistic.

"You seriously hit another wall? Thanks for nothing."

"Please… just shut up Amakawa."

* * *

 

Later, Amakawa and the girl offered to take the blame for the incident and they did. Both were punished leniently, seeing as they had owned up to what they (or more specifically Amakawa) had done. As much as Megumi wanted to help clean up, both had refused to let her. It made Megumi feel guilty; it was  _her_ lunch after all. In a way, it was partially her fault, so she didn't expect any forgiveness from either the girl or Amakawa. Had Megumi just  _not_  been there, the incident wouldn't have happened in the first place.

To be completely honest, this whole incident reminded Megumi of a similar situation she experienced while she was in middle school.

Back then however, she hadn't been the unfortunate victim but rather the  _perpetrator_. It might have been somewhat harsh to call herself a perpetrator, but as a middle schooler, Megumi had been deathly afraid she had committed a criminal offense. The incident wasn't actually all that serious, but she had been as overdramatic as most kids her age. So what did she do anyway?

Accidentally knock over a shelf in a supermarket, particularly one that shelved a long row of glass bottles

She remembered seeing her life flash before her eyes, certain she'd either die trying to pay off her debt or die in prison not being to pay off said debt. Fortunately enough for her, the manager had laughed off the entire incident and let her off the hook, much to her bewilderment. There had been millions of tiny shards of glass decorating the  _entire_  aisle, and yet he had seemed pretty easy-going about the ordeal.

Yeah. It didn't make much sense to Megumi either. Perhaps the manager just pitied her.

Anyway, Megumi didn't expect anything more to come out of that incident. Students  _did_ gossip about it, things like 'I didn't know she was the type to cause trouble' or 'Amakawa doesn't like to draw attention to himself, that's weird', but it wasn't anything new. Just like with Nishinoya's expulsion, people  _talked_ —and they wouldn't stop talking until the gossip died down a week or two later. At least Megumi's name hadn't been dragged through the mud or mentioned at all.

Such was the life of a high schooler, an aspect of being a teenager Megumi didn't  _particularly_ enjoy.

Since she'd been occupied with school work lately, Megumi spent most of her lunchtimes— if not, all— sitting alone in her classroom. Most of the time, she was distracted. Her blank club application nagged at her mind more often than not, so she couldn't say her lunchtimes were spent as productively as she would've liked. Either way, she'd been absentmindedly going through that same routine over and over when the girl from the other day approached her with a small smile and her hands behind her back.

"Hello Miyamura-san." The girl leaned over Megumi's desk, casting a shadow over her and peering through thick-rimmed glasses. "Here, I'd like to apologise for what happened yesterday."

She placed a yakisoba pan on top of Megumi's open notebook, and Megumi couldn't help but raise a sceptical eyebrow. It was just in her nature to second-guess everything. "I need to pay for it myself… right?"

The words sounded rude, perhaps even dismissive to Megumi's ears, but if the girl took offense to it, she didn't show it.

"No, not at all!" The girl waved her off, flashing a brief smile. "As I said, it's an apology. It was  _our_  fault you had to skip out on lunch after all."

"Oh."

Megumi glanced down to the yakisoba pan on her desk. It was exactly the same as the one she'd bought the day before. Same bread, same noodles; even the plastic seemed to be wrapped around the yakisoba pan the same way. She felt her stomach growling, sending waves of uncomfortable hunger within her. She hadn't realised how hungry she was, being too preoccupied with her school work to notice.

The girl looked at her expectantly and Megumi snapped out of irrelevant thoughts.

"Thank you… um—"

"Suzuki Kaede," she said, "I don't expect you to know me though, I'm not very popular after all…"

For a moment, Suzuki had looked conflicted and Megumi knew why. The bitter self-deprecation hadn't been subtle, and frankly it made Megumi slightly uncomfortable. She had never known how to respond to a person insulting themselves. Was it a joke? Or were their words somewhat truthful? It was hard to tell the difference, so in the end, it was just better to not respond at all.

In any case, Megumi unwrapped the plastic and took a small bite out the yakisoba pan. The bread and noodles were still warm and soft, so she supposed Suzuki had arrived at the canteen shortly after the lunch break had begun. Megumi wanted to ask her 'why go to all the effort to buy a yakisoba pan?'. It wasn't as if Suzuki had bought anything, and usually the line was long enough to make Megumi claustrophobic. More likely than not, she had probably gone to the canteen purely for Megumi's sake.

It was too kind. Megumi felt as if a simple 'thank you' wasn't enough.

"It's a little bit crowded here," Suzuki said. She tucked some loose strands of black hair behind her ear and glanced around the room. "I think I'd like to go down to the courtyard. Do you care to join me Miyamura-san?"

"Yeah, sure."

Overall, they talked about trivial things on their way down to courtyard. It turned out that Suzuki was a part of the girls' volleyball although she wasn't a starter and more often than not, skipped club activities. It honestly shocked Megumi. Suzuki didn't seem like the type to skip anything. Although Megumi hadn't ever mentioned it, Suzuki was in Megumi's class and was even the class representative. She was supposed to be responsible— or so Megumi assumed, it seemed out of character for her.

"I joined mainly for merit." Suzuki laughed nervously, fiddling with the cuffs of her sleeve. "I'm not a starter anyway. The team only needs me for numbers."

"Oh." Megumi pursued her lips, deep in thought. Suzuki's mentality wasn't one she would've associated with a volleyball player, but then again Megumi had only met  _three_ volleyball players, two of which were hotheads. Perhaps she'd been too caught up in drama (particularly having something to do with commitment) that she'd forgotten volleyball, albeit a team sport, was like any other sport. There were lazy players, completely dedicated players and unreliable players.

Suzuki probably fell into the lazy or unreliable players category.

"In fact, Amakawa approached me the other day about it. You do remember we were having some kind of fight before you walked in on us, right?" Suzuki suddenly scowled upon mentioning his name.

"Yeah, I think I remember."

"He asked me to take detailed notes on both the boys'  _and_ the girls' volleyball clubs matches during the Interhigh." Suzuki's face twisted into sour indignation, and she spat her words viciously without refrain. It almost took Megumi by surprise. Suzuki always seemed to change into a completely different person when Amakawa became the topic of conversation. Was there a specific reason why they didn't get along? Had there been an incident in the past?

Well as much as Megumi wanted to sate her curiosity, she wasn't— and didn't plan to be— a close friend of Suzuki. She had no right to divulge into matters that were probably personal. Still, it didn't mean she wasn't a  _little_ interested.

"…Do you believe that? Maybe he should do his own damn work instead of making others do it for him! Besides, how could I take notes on my  _own_  game? Our games might clash with the boys' games as well!" Suzuki continued angrily.

Megumi chose not to point out that Suzuki herself had told Megumi she  _wasn't_  a starter.

Anyway, Megumi sat down on the stone brick retaining wall, the one that stood between the courtyard and the higher levels of the school campus such as the baseball field and the soccer field. Suzuki sat down beside her, still rambling unflattering things about Amakawa. The rain drizzled slightly, but neither of them were bothered by the barely noticeable downpour. Megumi noticed Suzuki— while appearing unaffected by the weather— frequently touched the bangs hanging over her forehead or ran her fingers through tresses of dead-straight hair.

So, she cared about her appearance. Not that it was bad thing.

Also, why didn't she think about where she was before she sat down? The retaining wall was a little too damp for comfort.

"…Why does he want notes?" Megumi asked. It was a simple enough question, keeping her distance while also not being too invasive.

"He's… in the newspaper club," she said, "well, the  _journalism_  club— whatever they wish to call themselves. Apparently, the member in charge of writing about the sports clubs has graduated and Amakawa is required to take over their duties, upon other responsibilities I suppose."

"That… sounds tough."

No matter how much Suzuki seemingly disliked Amakawa, even she looked a little sympathetic, albeit her sympathy lasted a little less than a second.

"Even so, that gave him  _no_  right to speak to me like that! 'I'm desperate, since I'm asking you.' Who's would just  _give in_  after a comment like that? That lazy bastard…"

Well it  _was_  true that Amakawa seemed to have snark reserved especially for Suzuki, judging from Megumi's first and only interaction with him. Even so, Megumi understood he probably wasn't the one to sugar-coat his words— she wasn't one to either. He must've really been desperate if he asked Suzuki for help, considering how they didn't seem to get along very well.

Did he have no one else to turn to? Was he really swamped with  _that_ many responsibilities?

The light rain tickled her cheeks, and Megumi wiped the rainwater from her cheeks with the back of her hand. Next to her Suzuki got up, pulling out her phone and glaring at the screen.

"And there he is again! He really won't leave me alone will he?" Suzuki tapped her phone quickly, typing a reply within a few seconds. "I really shouldn't have given him my number last year…"

Megumi hadn't really thought about what she said next. Also, she hadn't really thought about what she did  _after_  she said what she did. She did it out of a gut instinct, a whim even. Oh well, she'd regret it later.

As soon as Suzuki shut off her phone, Megumi reached to tap her shoulder.

"Suzuki-san? Can I borrow your phone for a second?"

* * *

 

Frankly, Megumi didn't really know what she had gotten herself into—  _at first_. On one hand, it was relief that she no longer had to worry about which club to join. She'd gave in her application after she saw the vice principal and was appointed as the seventh member of the journalism club. On the other hand, the club was not lax in the slightest. Each club member was in charge of writing a certain section of the school's newsletter; it was Megumi's luck she'd been placed in charge of the only available section: the sports section. Although it was apparently the smallest section of the school's newsletter, it was still a  _huge_  task for a single person.

So that was comforting— if she was a masochist.

Not only had she just  _not_ bothered with details, she only had a vague idea of what she was supposed to do. The Interhigh wasn't until a month or so, but Megumi had been tasked with introducing herself to the coaches, advisors, managers and the teams anyway.

It was all just a little…  _overwhelming_. Megumi had never been comfortable around huge groups of people, and then she was suddenly expected to know the names of every player, coach and manager in each sport club— which by most people's standards, was a  _lot_ of people.

Although Suzuki had only mentioned the boys' and girls' volleyball teams, Amakawa had explained to her due to the dwindling numbers in the journalism club— not the newspaper club apparently (she still didn't understand what the difference was)— the club members were forced to handle workloads far beyond what anyone could consider 'fair'. The merit of simply being in the club was extremely rewarding however, according to the club president at least. But then again, her words may have just been superficial; appealing enough for Megumi to join and truthful enough to not be considered a lie.

Anyway, Megumi had already introduced herself to most of the clubs she'd be working with for the rest of the school year; the basketball club, the soccer club, the baseball club and the swimming club to name a few. The only club left was the boys' volleyball club, and that brought her to Megumi's next task.

The club president had been pretty irritated when she'd explained the task to Megumi— most likely from the stress of running such a high-maintenance club. Megumi understood, and she chose to heed the club president's words without asking too many questions or causing too much trouble.

"I need to make sure you know what you're doing," she said, rubbing her temple tiredly. "Not many people can write acceptable articles before they join. Do have any experience with a club like this in your middle school or something?"

"No," Megumi answered truthfully.

The club president sighed dramatically and grabbed the nearby cup of cold coffee, chugging it down without pausing. The vice president of the club— presumably the owner of the now downed coffee— snatched it out of her hands with great horror and an unceremonious groan. He seemed… strangely used to it though.

Poor guy.

Even Amakawa, who sat in the corner of the room tapping away on his laptop seemed to roll his eyes before he continued whatever he was doing.

"Gross, it's cold." The club president wiped her mouth on her sleeve and ignored him. "The boys' volleyball club are having a practice match at the end of Golden Week. Have you heard about this Miyamura?"

Megumi gave her a puzzled look. A practice match? Nishinoya hadn't said a word about it to her. It wasn't  _that_ strange though, whatever was happening with his team didn't really concern Megumi. Regardless, she figured it would've been a little weird if she knew every detail of his life. He certainly didn't know a thing about hers.

"Doesn't look like you know about it. I'll have you write an article about their match with… Metropolitan Ne—" The club president paused. "Neko…?—  _their opponents_. Think of it as test of sorts. It's not a real match, so it's not going to be in the school newsletter anyway."

It was ironic, in a way. Usually Megumi didn't care to win anyone's approval; but if she didn't write the articles up to the club president's standards, she'd likely be cast out of the club assuming the club president had to authority to do that, which she probably did. In any case, it made Megumi  _nervous_. Was there a particular style she was expected to write in? Or—

The vice president emerged from the storeroom connected to the club room next door, carrying a battered cardboard box. "Miyamura-san? Come over here for a second."

"Ooh!" The club's president's eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together enthusiastically. "That's right! You need your club uniform."

A club uniform…? Wait, the journalism club had a  _uniform_?

"What's this for?" Megumi asked curiously.

The vice president pried open the box and held out a simple black jacket, a red neck strap with a plastic card holder and a red arm band labelled 'journalism'. He gave her a small glance. "Well, we're usually out and about— since we're in charge of all reporting all the events that happen in school, and the events that are happening around our area. Our uniform makes us easily identifiable, but in her case—" He gave a pointed glare at the club president. "—it's not necessarily a good thing."

The club president simply gave a loud belch in reply, presumably because of the coffee she drank earlier.

"I see…" Megumi took the uniforms graciously, bowing slightly to express her thanks. She unfolded the jacket, holding it out to herself to get a better look at it.

The jacket itself was well made; it felt like it was mostly made of soft cotton, though she wouldn't have been surprised if it was also made with a bit of wool. The jacket didn't feel waterproof or even water-resistant; but it was thick enough for warmth and was soft to the touch. It was probably pretty comfortable. The arm band and neck strap were simple enough; red to contrast the black. Megumi supposed the id holder was for her student id.

She didn't really  _want_  to wear her id around the place; it made her feel uneasy. What if she lost it? What if the id holder came off by accident?

"I think I'll get going now, thank you." Her seniors gave her a small wave to farewell her, and Amakawa gave a small grunt of acknowledgement as well.

So… the practice match on last day of Golden Week would be Megumi's first official task given to her by the journalism club.

_Fun_.

It wasn't as though she didn't look forward to watching the practice match— she did, but Megumi didn't have really any interest in journalism. Joining the club had appeared to be more trouble than it was worth. Megumi had no aspirations in the field of journalism, so it felt like she had just  _chosen_ a random club without thinking. In the journalism club, Megumi had known the two third years— the club president and the vice president— beforehand through their work. They were always actively publishing articles in the weekly school newsletter; two, three— sometimes even four articles were published between them. They were clearly passionate, given the deep eye bags and faint scent of coffee in the club room.

Even Amakawa, who Suzuki claimed as 'lazy', was clearly serious about the work given to him by the journalism club. He had wrapped himself in a blanket like a burrito, body sprawled across the couch in the corner of the room. Amakawa's eyes had been half-lidded as he rapidly tapped away at his laptop, and the headphones over his ears expressed his desire to be left alone in his world of music and concentration.

Megumi had heard the quiet scuffling of shoes coming from the storeroom, the whispers of two other members discussing possible topics and articles for next week's newsletter, and a third whisper-shouting at them to keep quiet. Their heads barely peeked over the boxes and shelves in that barely illuminated room— they were presumably first years, and yet they had more direction and focus than Megumi ever had in her life.

Megumi didn't intend to join the club with half-hearted commitment no, she was fully prepared to invest all her effort into producing the best articles she could for the journalism club but with the little passion she felt, there was a clear disconnect between herself and the other members of the club. Without a doubt, Megumi knew she could never produce anything better than anyone else in the club, no matter how hard she tried.

Without passion, she couldn't run that extra kilometre— that extra  _thing_  that made something stand out. She would never be able to see how her work could improve. In Megumi's eyes, her 'best' work could never compare to the standards set by passionate people. She had no clue why she had joined; was it for the merit? Or did she join to help ease the burden off Amakawa's shoulders to repay a favour? She didn't owe him anything though, so it didn't make any sense.

Honestly, the thought alone made her feel disheartened. The vice principal was right; she didn't know what she wanted to do, and she was too passive to ever try her hand her hand at anything. Not only that, but Megumi had consciously decided to join a club she wasn't interested in. Though she didn't intend to put in anything but her best effort, it still felt abominably selfish of her. Would Megumi harm this passionate club by simply  _being_ in it?

She didn't know.

Even so, Megumi wanted to try. Fail, fall or fly; she just wanted something she could pour her heart into.

* * *

 

Golden week approached quickly and, in the end despite her better judgement, Megumi decided not to tell Nishinoya she'd be watching his match.

Like most sport and recreation centres, the ceiling was high and scent of faint salonpas invaded her nostrils. The spectators' seats sat on a high elevation next to the courts, with a simple but sturdy handrail for safety. On an even higher elevation, vertiginous considering the height of the ceiling, the hallways of the recreation centre were exposed to the courts, another handrail along its edge to prevent falls and injuries. With the hallways and spectators' area perpendicular to one another, Megumi couldn't help but admire the architecture that appealed magnificently to her perfectionism.

Upon entering the stadium, Megumi quickly realised the only other spectators beside herself were four older men, the younger two of the four presumably in their mid-twenties to early thirties. They leaned casually against handrail, observing the warmups with a somewhat animate commentary whilst the older two stood further away against the handrail. Concealing herself, Megumi had snuck past them without a sound and approached Takeda, Shimizu and the coach— whom the vice president had informed her was called Ukai.

She really was surprised no one had noticed her arguably suspicious behaviour, but then again Megumi didn't have much of a presence to begin with. Even though she was decked out in her journalism-club uniform (with her regular school uniform underneath): the bright red arm band and neck strap, Megumi was still basically undetectable. Cynical, but at least she was honest with herself.

"Ah, Miyamura-san," Takeda greeted her warmly; he was her favourite teacher after all. "I heard you'd be coming along today. I'm glad you've taken an interest in volleyball!"

Megumi forced a smile. It wasn't exactly  _because_  of volleyball that she was here, she'd only been elected as the journalist in charge of sports because no one else was. She wasn't about to tell him that though.

"Thank you, Takeda-sensei."

The manager— who Megumi knew as Shimizu Kiyoko (she probably didn't know of Megumi's existence though)— gave a small nod and smile in greeting. "Hello. Will you be working with us for the rest of the year?"

Shimizu hadn't really done much but acknowledge Megumi's presence, but Megumi couldn't help but feel a subtle, cold intimidation that even Shimizu probably wasn't aware of. It was obvious that Shimizu was  _gorgeous_ , she was every girl's definition of beautiful. Megumi just hadn't realised how someone could be so beautiful that they were  _scary_.

"Y—Yes." Megumi cursed her stutter and held out a shaky hand. "I'm Miyamura Megumi, pleasure to meet you."

Shimizu took her hand gracefully and shook it. "Shimizu Kiyoko."

O—Okay. That was possibly the bravest thing Megumi had done in her life.

"Are you the newspaper club girl?" Ukai said from beside Takeda. Megumi was also tempted to correct him and say 'journalism club, not newspaper, but unlike Shimizu, he was the textbook example of intimidation. Blonde hair, piercings; Megumi swallowed and answered him cordially as best as she could.

"I am. I'll be writing an article about this practice match that won't appear in the school newsletter. I hope I don't cause you too much trouble Ukai-san," Megumi said, bowing as she did so.

Was that too formal? Was she acting too tense? Behind her back, Megumi gripped and twisted her wrist. It was painful, but it did alleviate some of the nervousness she felt by talking to such a tall, intimidating man. Ukai didn't seem too bothered by her presence, but she could never be too sure.

"It's fine." He waved her off. "Your articles will actually help out the team— watch out for the stray balls by the way."

Just as he said that, Shimizu stepped aside for a ball to pass her and collide with the wall. There was a loud crash of the ball meeting the wood, and Megumi almost  _shrieked_  in surprise. She didn't though, and a few seconds later, she recognised the loud wail of 'I'm sorry!' coming from Hinata, then a strange sound of recognition as Hinata called 'it's Miyamura-senpai!'.

Well, her cover was blown— not that she had one in the first place.

Instinctively, Megumi had flinched and darted back when the ball had  _almost_  hit her. Her hair was wildly in disarray, mostly because she hadn't chosen to pull back her hair with hair clips that day— she was just too lazy. She combed back the messy, brown hair in front of her eyes so she could see, observing the boys out on the volleyball court as they were in the middle of their warm-up spikes.

Megumi really only knew three people: Tanaka, Nishinoya and Hinata. She didn't expect to be recognised by anyone else, but despite only three people knowing her, she knew there wouldn't be a  _small_ reaction to seeing her at the match especially  _since_  it was Tanaka, Nishinoya and Hinata.

She immediately noticed Nishinoya staring at her, eyes wide with surprise. He stood out from everyone else on court with his bright orange jersey, contrasting the black of his teammates. Nishinoya  _was_  a libero after all. He was also still in the 'ready-position'— something Megumi had learnt in her short time with her middle school volleyball club; hands open and welcome to any attacks coming his way, knees bent, and weight pressed on the balls of his feet. However, he quickly turned his attention back to Nekoma's spikers, perfectly receiving the tall, black haired boy's— the captain of the other team— quick spike despite being distracted a few moments beforehand.

He wasn't the 'Guardian Deity' for nothing after all.

Megumi turned back to Ukai, Takeda and Shimizu when the referee blew the whistle to signal the teams to practice serving. She brushed the hair out of her face and looked away. "I'll make my way up to the stands now."

In an attempt at secrecy, Megumi watched the game away from the other spectators. Leaning over the handrail behind the spectators' seats, all four men were oblivious to her presence. She preferred it that way, though she did make sure she was close enough so she could eavesdrop into their conversations. They were clearly more knowledgeable than Megumi in volleyball, and their active commentary would ease the stress of taking notes about certain techniques she didn't know the lingo for.

Of course, since she  _was_  the sports journalist for the school, Megumi would have to learn a variety of lingo and terms for not only volleyball, but  _every_ sport Karasuno participated in. Megumi didn't really care about sports, so she dreaded the thought.

It wasn't as if she could avoid it though.

As the men engaged in an animated conversation, Megumi glanced away from them but kept their silhouettes within her peripheral. For some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity. Was it just her imagination? Or had she seen them somewhere before? Perhaps she had recognised them as past students from Karasuno? Either way, Megumi refocused her attention on the match in front of her and ignored the nagging sense of familiarity within her.

Watching each team line up on each side of the court, she made a mental note of each player— she couldn't possible write notes on every single player after all. As the game started, she assessed the three people she recognised.

Hinata, despite being almost as short as Megumi, was a starting player. In her opinion, he had also been the flashiest player on court. He possessed some kind of god-like speed, one that blew Megumi for a loop when she first witnessed his spike. Not only was he fast, it was as if he left afterimages in his wake.

A god-like quick… Megumi made sure to take detailed notes about Hinata's and #9, Karasuno's setter's, impressive combo.

She also recognised Tanaka on court. Loud, rowdy, hot-headed; he arguably stood out as much as Hinata. With some kind of rivalry with Nekoma's #4, he celebrated each successful spike with a loud cheer, sometimes even a playful antic with Nishinoya. He was over-the-top, and honestly, she hadn't expected anything less from him. He added energy to the court.

And then… there was Nishinoya.

Already, she couldn't help her eyes from being drawn to him. He wasn't the flashiest player on court— definitely not. He was even somewhat  _quiet_ — no, he was  _focused_. Focused only on the game in front of him, watching the backs of his teammates and defending those backs to the best of his abilities. He was a defender, not an attacker, but that didn't mean his skills weren't on par with those of his teammates. On court, he created connections with every fibre of his being. It was as if his life was on the line, and she admired his dedication.

He certainly wasn't the centre of attention like Hinata, nor did he celebrate loudly after every successful pass like Tanaka, but he caught her attention.

" _I'll definitely protect everyone!_ "

Megumi smiled to herself.

_Well you definitely aren't failing, Nishinoya-kun._

After a few minutes of watching the match; or more specifically Hinata, Nishinoya and Tanaka; Megumi began to feel somewhat uneasy. Nekoma had already proven they were an intelligent team, especially their setter #5. It was subtle, but the setter was constantly playing tricks with Karasuno's blockers, like a cat playing with their prey before they devoured it.

A tip over Hinata's head. Tricking a tall, blonde Karasuno blocker to run opposite direction of his set. Megumi may not have been knowledgeable about volleyball, but even she could tell #5 was incredibly resourceful. In the end, that subtle skill ended the game with one last save— one even Nishinoya couldn't react fast enough to.

When she thought Karasuno had finally won a seemingly endless rally, Nekoma's setter dived under the ball for the final, third touch, body sweeping as the ball bounced off his forearm. With a forceful swing of his arm, the only ones that were able to react were Nishinoya and Hinata as the ball spun through the air. In a flurry of yellow and blue, the ball arched through the air quickly behind the team.

Nishinoya reached out his arm, diving as his face twisted in desperation. Hinata ran close behind, the ball falling closer and closer to the ground…!

The whistle sounded.

The final score of the second score was twenty-five to twenty-two, Nekoma to Karasuno.

The set count was two to zero, the winner Metropolitan Nekoma High School.

It was a little disappointing— she was rooting for Karasuno after all— but the match was nevertheless enjoyable.

Despite her expectations of the game lasting only two sets, like regular volleyball matches, Hinata demanded to play another set with Nekoma. Nekoma's coach was compliant and didn't seem to mind.

Except to Hinata, ' _one more_ ' actually meant ' _many more_ ' and by the time both teams stopped playing, one more turned into  _four more_. The players were tired, puffed out from Hinata's endless enthusiasm. Megumi was the only spectator left, the other four having gone halfway through the third or fourth set.

Overall Megumi hadn't taken extremely detailed notes, but she took three B5 pages worth of notes, a single side each. They were scrawled in quickly in her signature cursive writing; to the naked eye it was considered neat, but Megumi knew better. No one besides herself could  _actually_ decipher her writing, not even her teachers sometimes.

The personal time difference attack performed by Nekoma's setter, #5 and Nekoma's captain, #1. The 'god-like quick' (dubbed by the other spectators, Megumi didn't choose the name) performed by Hinata and Karasuno's setter, #9. Nekoma's back pipe, which involved several players acting as decoys for a back attack. All in all, there was  _a lot_  of content Megumi could write about in her article. She was especially interested in the personal time difference attack. She knew it was uncommon, the attack looked difficult and the timing seemed particularly difficult to pull off. It required the spiker to trick the blockers into messing up their timing, then performing an attack amidst the confusion.

There was no way #5 and #1 in the Nekoma team had only just met in high school. An attack like that probably required years of practice. Megumi wasn't a volleyball player though, so she couldn't be sure.

Through six sets against Nekoma, she'd learnt more about volleyball than she had in an entire week in her middle school's volleyball team. She decided to put down her pen and paper, and simply  _enjoy_ the match. Of course, when something piqued her interest, Megumi picked up her notebook and quickly jotted down some more notes, but she mostly remained inactive with what she was  _supposed_  to do. It didn't really matter though, a normal match only lasted two to three sets— unless it lasted three to five sets. Besides, the article wasn't going to be read by anyone besides her seniors in the journalism club.

It was so mysterious though,  _passion_  was mysterious. With passion, even something that was supposed to be a chore had her on the edge of her seat. There should have been nothing different, and yet watching all these people she hardly even knew ignited some kind of adrenaline in her heart. She was sucked in, breathless, completely enraptured for who knows how long. Drumming heartbeats in her ears, and a tense tickling under her skin, Megumi lost herself in the excitement of the match that had unfolded before her eyes.

She constantly found herself in awe, briefly forgetting the task to assigned to her before she went back to her note-taking. It was clear there and then what the difference was between Megumi and everyone else. No matter what club it was, passion would always shine and dominate. The means to achieve merit couldn't have— and wouldn't  _ever_  have even held a candle to passion.

It inspired her, to say the least.

After both teams played six sets overall, practically everyone laid exhausted on the floor; sweaty, panting, and some even appearing to be on the verge of passing out. Morning had turned to evening, and Ukai grabbed Hinata by the scruff of the neck when the latter proposed  _another_  'one more'.

"Hey, hey! We can't now!" Ukai said, at loss for words. Honestly, Megumi couldn't blame him. How could someone have  _this_  much energy after playing six sets in row? The idea was inconceivable, if it wasn't Hinata. "We have to catch the bullet train!"

Hinata flailed around in Ukai's grip, baring his teeth in irritation when he accepted the cold, hard truth.

Both teams huddled around one final time, each coach speaking to the opposing teams. Megumi stood alone in the spectators' area. All four men had long departed the gymnasium, and she was the only person left besides the teams.

The day grew dim outside, the skies were flecked in streaks of orange and yellow. She knew it was sometime after four o'clock, and a small part of her mind wandered to the fact she'd told her father she'd be home by noon. It wasn't as if she was too worried, half the time, her father would be too absorbed in his work to even notice her absence.

He probably hadn't realised, if the lack of text messages and phone calls was an indication of anything.

Each team was dismissed with an instruction to clean up from the coaches, and Megumi headed down from the spectators' area to speak with Ukai one last time. She wondered past Hinata and Karasuno's first-year setter bickering as they rolled up the net, making a mental note that his name was Kageyama.

"You piece of crap!"

"You turd!"

First years, huh. High school or middle school?

"Ah! Miyamura-senpai!" Hinata greeted, dropping the net to free his hands. He waved at her, much to the annoyance of Kageyama who began grumbling about state of the unrolled net.

Quickly glancing over to where Ukai was speaking with Nekoma's assistant coach, she also noticed Nishinoya intensely staring at Nekoma's libero. She almost felt sorry for the other libero, deciding to make a small detour and converse with Hinata.

"Hello, Hinata-kun." Megumi bent down, assisting Kageyama in rolling up the undone net, a direct result of Hinata's actions. If Kageyama was even mildly surprised, he said nothing.

"Oo~ What are you doing here? Were you watching Noya-san play? He's so awesome, isn't he?!" Like a starry-eyed child, Hinata bent his knees, clasped his hands together and swung his arms in the air as if to imitate Nishinoya.

Kageyama snickered behind her. "You look stupid."

"H—Hey shut up! I'm not stupid!"

"You are."

"I'm not! Do you wanna fight punk?"

"Bring it on!"

Finally rolling up her end of the net, Megumi watched them exasperatedly. Just what sort of relationship did these two have off the court? It was kind of unbelievable to think a duo like Kageyama and Hinata bickered  _this_  much. As annoying as it was, Megumi  _was_  their upperclassman. She kind of had a duty to break them up, even if she barely knew them.

Tossing the completely rolled up net to a surprised Kageyama, she held her palms up between both of them. Megumi wasn't very confrontational, but her mind worked quickly. Spotting the Karasuno's captain speaking to a Nekoma player a few metres away, she formulated a quick, harmless plan to break them up.

She'd seen the captain's intensity once. It was good enough for now.

"Oh," she said in feigned surprise. In such toneless exaggeration— which was completely unintentional by the way, she was just a bad liar— there was no way her words could be taken seriously. "Is that the captain looking this way?"

Without even looking the captain's way, both boys stiffened, and Kageyama hurried away with the net in hand.

"Oh, and about your earlier— Hina… Hinata-kun?!"

He was white in face, almost frothing at the mouth.  _Oh god_ , she went too far. Honestly, just how intense was the captain to scare Hinata  _this_  much? Hinata frowned, slightly shaking as he took quick glances at the captain who was luckily facing the other way. "I—I need to go to the bathroom! Sorry Miyamura-senpai!"

Without another word, Hinata raced away, holding his stomach painfully. Megumi had her hand extending towards where'd he just been. He was fast— that was undeniable— and Megumi wasn't quite sure what to make of Hinata's irrational fear of angering Karasuno's captain. It was almost to the extent of PTSD— well probably not  _that_  much, but still.

Either way, Megumi sighed and shook her head. Ukai had gone off to who knows where, so she was stuck waiting for him in the time being. She  _could_  approach Shimizu and socialise with her; Megumi and Shimizu  _were_  the only females in the sports centre after all. Megumi was pretty sure Shimizu would appreciate a break from all the testosterone, though honestly, Megumi felt as if being in Shimizu's presence was even more intense than the male presence.

In fact, people were probably so scared to approach her that she likely wasn't even aware of how pretty she really was.

Quickly glancing over everyone, she didn't notice the hand that had reached to grasp her shoulder.

"Miyamura! Are you leaving?"

Of course.

If plot convenience was a thing, this  _was_ it. In her mind, she had recognised Nishinoya immediately but her body however, did not. Partly due to her instinctual reflexes, Megumi grabbed his hand and threw it off her shoulder defensively. As expected, Nishinoya was caught off guard as much as she was, and Megumi blurted a string of apologies and excuses.

"Uh… it's fine Miyamura! No harm done!"

"Right," Megumi said hastily. Embarrassingly, the split-second of panic had engulfed her heart in adrenaline. Her fingers trembled from where she'd flung his hand away. Hiding her hands in her jacket pockets, she lowered her gaze to the floor. "So… uh, hi."

"You didn't tell me you'd be here!" Nishinoya stepped forward eagerly, though upon noticing Megumi step back, he made no further moves to get closer to her. "You're wearing the same jacket as us! Does that mean you're really our second manager? That's—"

"N—No…" Megumi cut in, forcing herself to laugh and in turn— sounding more nervous than she really should have been. He  _was_  right though, the journalism club's jacket did resemble the volleyball club's jacket, albeit Megumi's had a hoodie and there were no words embellished on the back. "Do you see the arm band? I'm in the journalism club."

"The journalism club? I thought it was the newspaper club though."

"It's the  _journalism_ club." Megumi emphasised, then she held her tongue. It… didn't really matter either way, but upon being corrected by the tenacious club president, Megumi had almost adopted the same mannerism of correcting people. "Actually you know what? It's the newspaper club."

Nishinoya gave her strange look.

"What'd you think? Our team's pretty interesting huh?" Nishinoya grinned. Speaking quickly and excitably, Nishinoya looked at Megumi with shining eyes. Almost as if he was trying to prove a point to her, his eyes held a certain edge to them. It wasn't threatening, there was however a certain curiosity and eagerness that communicated a proudness of the team he played with. It was clear to Megumi that his team and the sport itself were incredibly important to him, and it made her wonder…

Regardless, his words were an understatement. Megumi gave a wispy sigh and small smile. "Yeah, you all played amazingly. I was so invested in that match. I couldn't take my eyes of the ball and…you played especially well Nishinoya-kun, in the game I mean."

In contrast to how she believed he would react— accepting the compliment like any other person would— Nishinoya bowed his head and looked away. He held up his fist and clenched it as if he were in pain. Needless to say, Megumi… didn't know what to say.

"I didn't play well enough! Be honest Miyamura, I have to improve!"

Megumi's eyes flickered away. "Uh… I don't really think—"

"My reaction time is still too slow! I can't react fast enough to setter dumps either, there's still so much I have left to learn." Nishinoya's brow furrowed as he glanced away from her, shoving his hands in his black jacket. Despite his feverish energy, his playing style was careful and calculated. It may have just been Nishinoya's instinct, but from an outsider's point of view, he appeared to make every move with deliberate intent.

It was admirable, watching Nishinoya's drive to improve. Despite his extreme athleticism and impressive skills, he wasn't arrogant and wasn't afraid to push himself further past his limits. However, Megumi didn't deny that his strictness on himself was somewhat overwhelming— but it was also a breath of fresh air. Hiding a small smile under a neutral face, Megumi sighed quietly under her breath.

"Well… I think that's a good mindset to have," Megumi said absentmindedly, playing with the ends of her hair. "There's always room for improvement… so you're really admirable for not stopping here, Nishinoya-kun."

Nishinoya stared at for a few moments, looking at her longer than usual. It was strange, but when she glanced at him questionable, he looked away abruptly. Did she say something weird?

"W—Well either way!" Megumi said loudly, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. "I—"

"Miyamura!"

Ukai interrupted them with a small call, and Takeda and Shimizu trailed behind him. Whatever was going through Nishinoya's head seemed to vanish and he began to fawn over Shimizu, whom looked undeniably uncomfortable with the attention. Megumi gave the back of Nishinoya's head a deadpanned stare, resisting the urge to pull the back of his collar— possibly choking him— to give Shimizu some room to breathe.

He really needed to act on his crush some other, healthier way.

Ukai stepped forward, looking down at Megumi— literally, not figuratively, because Megumi was  _quite_ literally shorter than average. "What's your honest opinion on the match?"

Needless to say, Megumi didn't expect Ukai to ask her  _that_ of all things. "M—Me? But I'm an outsider."

"That's exactly what I need." Ukai reasoned. Nishinoya looked over from where he and Shimizu were, curiously listening in on the conversation. "An outsider's point of view. You know basic volleyball, don't you? What do you see on court?"

It… sounded condescending. Megumi felt as if she had no place to say anything. Glancing around at all the boys around the court; the Nekoma players and Karasuno players, she couldn't say that she held anything less than admiration for them. She knew from experience that volleyball was a sport filled to the brim with technique and skill. Raw power and height had always been an advantage too, but Megumi felt that the hard work put into achieving the level of skill from the players was well-deserving of praise. So what could she…?

"I hold nothing less than admiration," Megumi said honestly. She took a deep breath and continued. "Coming from someone who can only see things as it is… Karasuno is full of raw potential, I—I think. Kageyama-kun and Hinata-kun's god-like quick can only evolve from here. I don't know how, but I think this team can really go far. The defense is lacking a bit, but the offense is truly something to be proud of. That's what I believe at least."

Perhaps it was the nerves, or the sincere truth in her words. Megumi couldn't look anyone in the eye, instead choosing to keep her own eyes glued to her feet. She knew she was flustered; her words had been simple, straightforward and completely true. Her cheeks felt warm, and she could only imagine how red her face was. Was it too much?

It didn't seem to be.

"Thank you for your honesty, Miyamura-san." Takeda gave her kind smile and she looked up from her feet. "There are probably a lot of things we could have done. We're awkward, and our team dynamic hasn't quite formed yet. We're not— by regular standards  _strong_ , but this is a good starting place for us: the clumsy, newborn crows."

Megumi felt the corners of her lips break out into a what felt like a truly genuine smile— and it was. There hadn't been anything but positivity around these group of people, and simply talking about what she had seen in the match made her heart feel lighter. She wanted to ask herself, is  _this_  what volleyball should have felt like?

If it was, she didn't know  _why_ she had felt absolutely nothing the first time.

Although she hadn't realised it initially, Nishinoya had seemingly vanished without a single word— probably to socialise with other people. It was strange, Megumi thought he would've said at least  _something_ , not to her but at least Shimizu. He did have a pretty obvious crush on her after all.

"Yeah, I agree," Ukai said. He placed a hand on the back of his neck and looked away, towards the Karasuno players with heartfelt, hopeful sort of look Megumi couldn't describe with words. "These teams change every year. It's hard to keep growing stronger when teams are only temporary. But we have a chance, so we'll keep refining ourselves until we can win."

It was just that simple wasn't it? To keep growing stronger, and  _win_. In the end there was a difference between merit and passion, but it didn't matter anyway. People were stronger with passion— yes; however, as corny as it sounded, as long as she poured her soul into her goal, the passion would come one day, and her work could reach the standard she would have never thought she could achieve.

Shimizu caught Megumi's attention when she held out a piece of paper.

"These are the scores of each set, and the schedule of when we arrived, when the warmups started and when the games started," Shimizu said quietly. She looked passive, and yet extremely queenly. There was that subtle intimidation again, but Megumi decided to simply pay no mind to it. "It might be able to help you with your article."

"Thank you for this Shimizu-san." Megumi folded the paper and slid it into her notebook. Shimizu  _was_  nice enough, it probably wasn't fair to treat her as if she'd killed a dog.

Megumi just… was getting used to people, wasn't she?

Amakawa, Suzuki, the journalism club, the boys' volleyball club, and the various other sports clubs she had to interact with; if Megumi had to claim there was a specific reason behind this change, she'd probably say it was because the people around her had ' _inspired_ ' her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stress makes ice cream taste better, in my opinion.
> 
> Date of Publish - (09.07.2018)


	4. My Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megumi bonds with a fellow club member and goes shopping with Nishinoya. It seems a little too domestic for some reason, but either way, she feels as if she's grown closer to him.

Sleep deprivation had devastating effects on Megumi— especially since she had always taken such good care of herself in the past. It was difficult to rise early, sleep late, and work tirelessly through mentally strenuous club activities; but she made sure not to utter a single complaint. She had  _no right_  to whine, so she didn't.

Megumi had taken it upon herself to adapt quickly to her new circumstances. She'd never been slow to adjust to sudden changes and in this case, that sudden change was  _sleep_ —or rather the lack of it. It was a relief the fatigue and lethargy didn't show on her face; no eyebags, no undereye shadows and even her complexion had remained relatively the same. Although she appeared healthy and rested, Megumi herself knew otherwise. Perhaps she looked fine, so what? She didn't  _feel_  fine.

Her new role as the school's sole sports journalist was taxing. Club activities mostly comprised of independent work; attending sport club practices, reporting to the club president or vice president, organising her schedule, attending club meetings, reporting to the coaches and advisors, organising the content of her section of the school newsletter, something about lunch…?

Yeah. Megumi was a mess, if that wasn't obvious enough. By obvious she meant only to herself, because had her stress been outwardly obvious, it would've defeated the whole purpose of looking  _fine_.

Regardless, her perfectly composed, expressionless face didn't fool everyone. The vice president came to her side more often than not, enquiring of her general wellbeing out of concern.

"I'm fine Akimoto-san," said Megumi. She quirked her lips into a brief smile, trying to hide her exhaustion under a false guise. It didn't seem to work though, the vice president only looked even more worried.

"Are you sure?" He asked her apprehensively. His brow knitted together as if he didn't believe her. "I know the president's given you a huge workload, you're only new here so it's understandable if you're overwhelmed."

"It's not a lot." Megumi reassured. It was a lie. "I'm not overwhelmed."

"Really?"

"Yes! I'm sure!"

The vice president gave her grim smile, one that said, 'I'm not convinced, but I'm not going to push you to tell me'. Was she really  _that_  transparent? "Well if you say so Miyamura. Just…" He paused, giving her a long glance. "…don't hesitate to come to me if you have any issues, okay?"

"I will, and besides, if I can't do something as simple as this I'd be pretty useless."

Akimoto looked like he wanted to say something but after a moment's hesitation, he chose not to. Regardless, he gave her the customary encouragement to 'keep up the good work!' before heading to the library. As a third year, he spent most of his time studying for his finals in the library. It wasn't unusual that he didn't appear in the club room as often as the second years and first years. After all, sacrifices had to be made to ensure a future in a competitive society. Megumi understood more than anybody else.

The same thing applied to the club president, albeit Megumi seriously doubted it. Considering how lazy she was, the club president was probably more likely to be dozing away in a ditch somewhere than studying in a dingy, old library.

After the vice president had left, Megumi spent a fair amount of time twirling her pen mindlessly, staring outside and watching the soccer team's early morning practice through misty, fogged-up glass. The Interhigh for the soccer club was rapidly approaching within the next week or so, much earlier than any of the other sport clubs. Thrown headfirst into the fray, she wasn't sure if she was even  _ready_  to begin her proper duties. The article she had submitted to the club president had been satisfactory—  _at best_. She wasn't surprised when the club president had handed it back to her, commenting on the lack of 'oomph'— for the absence of a better term— that drew in readers. Megumi didn't exactly know what 'oomph' really referred to. Articles were just articles, weren't they? Cold, hard facts.

Megumi gazed through half-lidded eyes as the captain, Fukase, kicked an impressive goal whilst surrounded by three defenders.

After appeasing his cheering teammates, he appeared to snap his head in her direction from down in the pitch and catch her eye, but Megumi quickly looked away. She hadn't been caught, had she? She had never felt too terribly comfortable around him. Whenever she ran errands for the journalism club, his attention always seemed entirely focused on her. It was unnerving, in a way. He always had a talkative, over-friendly attitude that seemed far too suspicious for her to take at face value and frankly, he annoyed her.

Maybe she was just overthinking or imagining things.

When Megumi turned her attention back to her notebook, she blinked owlishly at the steaming cup of coffee that had suddenly materialised in front of her. The steam of the coffee warmed her cheeks, and Megumi took the cup graciously from whomever had handed it to her, muttering a small thanks and taking a small sip.

Almost immediately, she felt the caffeine taking its effect. Megumi blinked and the muscles around her eyelids grew less tense. Her senses sharpened; and she felt more alert of her surroundings.

Amakawa took a seat across from her, placing his open laptop between them.

"Amakawa-san." Megumi greeted, and he nodded in acknowledgement. "Good morning."

"You look tired." He commented casually, then continued tapping away at his laptop. He always seemed to be occupied with work, at least whenever Megumi was around. She didn't bother denying his observation, it wasn't as if she really needed to. "I made it for Touya, but it looks like he already left."

So she was the second string, huh?

"Touya?" Megumi asked curiously.

"Akimoto Touya? You know, the vice president?" Amakawa drawled his words in such a way that made Megumi feel stupid.

"Oh." Megumi glanced away from him, holding the coffee close to her face as the steam drifted in a veil around her face. The redness in her cheeks were certainly from the coffee, Megumi made sure of that. "You call him by his first name? He's our senpai though."

"So?" Amakawa quirked his eyebrow, looking somewhat amused. "Formalities don't really matter all that much to me."

"But you call Suzuki-san by her last name." Megumi pointed out.

"Yeah, because I hate her."

Ouch. No wonder why Suzuki held such a grudge against him.

Amakawa held his own cup of coffee to his face, gulping down his drink quickly. One of the first-years, a stout, strong-looking boy emerged from the storeroom behind him carrying a heavy cardboard box with papers stacked on top of it. He gave a quick glance over to Amakawa, gruffly grunting as if in greeting, then left the club room after Amakawa raised a lazy hand in reply. It wasn't a surprise he'd completely ignored her, although Amakawa and the third years had been nothing short of welcoming, the first-years appeared less inclined to accept her as one of their own. She was a second-year that joined late after all, an unwanted intruder in their second home.

Megumi kept her gaze glued to the hands in her lap, wringing them uncomfortably until the first-year was safely out of the room.

"Anyway…" Amakawa's eyes lifted from his screen as he held the cup to his face. He peeked over the top of his laptop, regarding her in a calm— but not cold, calculating way; as if to gauge her reaction. "I don't care if you call me Yuuki— actually, I'd prefer it if you did."

Without really thinking, Megumi blurted out the first thing on her mind. "Is this a courting ritual?"

Amakawa choked on his coffee.

"Funny joke," he said dryly, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his blazer. Megumi didn't miss the faint red glow of his cheeks behind his hand, and she resisted the urge to smile at his unfortunate mishap. "That isn't really my kind of thing though."

Megumi stared at him for a moment, debating whether or not to inform him she had been  _serious_. She nodded in agreement though. "That's true, Amakawa-san."

" _Yuuki_." He emphasised. "Amakawa-san sounds too formal. You're just as bad as Suzuki."

As much as she wanted to rebuke him that Suzuki wasn't  _that_  bad, Megumi held her tongue and stared at her rippling reflection in the coffee. It was kind of amusing, watching Amakawa and Suzuki fight like children on a playground. Amakawa was like the boy pulling on the pigtails of the girl he liked, and Suzuki was well… the girl that fought back just as viciously.

Regardless she tried it out, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. "Okay then… Yuuki-san. I guess you can call me Megumi then."

Yuuki looked satisfied, and he said no more. He wasn't what Megumi would consider ' _friendly_ ', but he wasn't rude or condescending either, with the exception of his strange relationship with Suzuki. She couldn't really tell what he was thinking; although he appeared quiet and compliant, he wasn't. Megumi just didn't know what to make of him.

She must have been staring at him for a while, because Yuuki cracked a smug-looking smirk at her. "Is your coffee not hot enough, Megumi? Sweet enough?"

Megumi almost threw her steaming drink at him—  _almost_. She shook her head, taking a quiet, seemingly unfazed sip of her coffee. "No. It's just not bitter enough."

* * *

 

On the day of the Interhigh qualifiers for soccer, Megumi tagged along with the male and female soccer teams. Unfortunately, being a period of frequent rain, the fields had been drenched in a thick layer of mud and wet grass. The soccer players didn't seem to mind, apparently the day of the Interhigh being held on or after a rainy day wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Megumi however, minded a lot.

Megumi didn't really want to complain, but why had she been dragged into this?

Well, she knew the answer to that:it wasbecause she was Karasuno's resident sports journalism. Megumi almost regretted ever joining the club.

But as they said, every dark cloud had a silver lining, and Megumi hadn't really been participating in the sport. She was in the stands the whole day, and the area had been relatively dry and well-sheltered. The bus trip back on the other hand— not so nice.

The bus trip had been long—  _too long_. Megumi had been keeping head low and eyes glued to the window, watching the scenery pass by her— she was lucky to have a window seat. Around her, the female soccer players dozed away, exhausted and tired from the long day of matches. Megumi faintly smelt freshly cut grass among the overwhelming stench of sweat, mud and dirt. The air felt too stuffy— too warm; was Megumi supposed to be feeling as drained as the team? The advisor of the girls' soccer team had shot her an empathetic look when Megumi first stepped into the bus, knowing Megumi had a long road ahead of her.

When the bus pulled up at the entrance of the school, Megumi jumped out as quickly as she could— before any of the soccer players could. She had pulled open her umbrella as she leapt out of the bus, shielding herself from the rain that poured from the skies. Her feet landed directly in a puddle, the water splashing around her and soaking the insides of her school shoes. Though her feet had been kept dry with another layer of protection, she felt the damp discomfort of the rain water and quickly stepped out of the puddle.

Surely enough, the discomfort seeped out of her soles like water from a dam.

Megumi was relieved. The smell of salt and rain had never been so comforting, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the soccer team advisor dismissed her. She wasn't really a part of the soccer team anyway.

Megumi was happy for them, in her own way. She didn't really know any of the girls, and Fukase, the captain of the boys' team, was more of an annoyance than an acquaintance. Perhaps he really did have good intentions of becoming her friend at heart, but the way he went about it was so overbearing that Megumi couldn't stand it. Either way, both teams had made it through the first day of matches, and they were moving on to the next round.

The girls had been friendly and inclusive; they tried to make her feel as welcome as possible and yet she couldn't let her guard down around them. She was getting used to acquainting herself with all different kinds of people, but there was always a small part of her that wouldn't—  _couldn't_  trust the people around her.

It was probably her greatest flaw.

When Megumi was distanced far away enough from where the bus had dropped her off, she blinked in scrutiny. She spotted a hazy silhouette leaning against the wall with a black umbrella sheltering them, glancing down at a source of light in their hand— presumably a phone. The rain was heavy, and it was dark— dark enough to obscure her vision, but not dark enough for the street lights to automatically light up.

It wasn't supposed to be this dark at half past four, but the dark storm clouds shrouded the sunlight overhead, cloaking everyone in veil of darkness that screamed  _danger_.

Immediately, Megumi felt a tinge of panic running cold in her blood. Was it a rapist? A kidnapper? Was she going to die? As those dreadful thoughts consumed her in fear, she stood frozen and her vision focused. Even though her legs were ready to shoot off at that very moment, she hesitated. Megumi recognised this person…

"N—Nishinoya-kun?" Megumi breathed. She wasn't sure whether sigh was one of relief or a release of tension. "You're still here at school?"

"Miyamura, hey!" The light of his phone disappeared into his pocket, but the grin he gave her made up for it. "I was waiting for you, you know? I didn't know you'd get back so late though!" He laughed sheepishly, yet his infectious laughter was still laced in his typical, boyish vibrancy. She smiled in ease, this really was Nishinoya.

"Sorry." The light, feathery smile in her voice didn't really make her sound sorry at all. "You don't have practice, right? You must have been waiting out here for a while."

"Don't worry about it, Miyamura!" He reassured. "I went to Sakanoshita to get some snacks while I waited— here."

Nishinoya tossed her something in the darkness. She couldn't quite read its contents, but she felt around the rectangular-shaped object and her fingers brushed over something encased in plastic stuck to side of the box-like object.

"A juice box? What flavour is it?"

"Grape," he replied, "you should try it!"

Megumi felt her lips quirk into a small smile when she heard those familiar words. She looked away from him and down at the drink in her hands— which in this darkness, was just a black box.

She was far too used to this than she cared to admit. Without even needing her eyes, Megumi pulled the straw from its plastic protection and stabbed it into the juice box with expert precision. She crumbled the plastic and tucked it away into her pocket, she wasn't a litterer after all.

"Thank you," she said, sipping the juice from the straw. It was sour, yet sweet; without any kind of artificial flavouring that Megumi expected from the brand Nishinoya had gotten her _._  It wasn't bad. Then, she gazed at him curiously. "Do you need something? I doubt you waited for me  _just_  so we could walk home together."

"No, I just wanted to hang out with you!" He clarified, and his straightforward reasoning left her wondering how he didn't seem embarrassed in the slightest. Perhaps Megumi was just a little too oversensitive. "I haven't seen you around lately… and the newspaper club takes up most of your time."

"The  _journalism_  club." Megumi corrected, mostly out of habit. Nishinoya simply shrugged though, not really seeing the difference either way. Truth be told, she solemnly shared his sentiment. "I guess I have been pretty busy lately. I didn't think about how much I'd much time I'd have to dedicate to this club but…"

She trailed off into her own thoughts, her words left unfinished. ' _I don't really regret it_ ', was what she wanted to say, but her uncertainty about joining still lingered. Even if she wanted to stay, it didn't mean she would. Megumi had yet to prove she deserved to be in the club, the club president or vice president could kick her out at any time.

Either way, Megumi swallowed down her self-doubt and refocused her attention to Nishinoya. He hadn't seemed to notice anything amiss with her, and Megumi thanked whatever god there was that he hadn't.

She coughed into her hand, masking her awkward pause before continuing on. Megumi gave a small, forced, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Nishinoya-kun, but I have plans today to go shopping. It would probably inconvenience you to hang out with me while I run some errands."

She felt herself inwardly cringe. She hadn't really wanted to reject his offer to hang out— Megumi truly did enjoy spending time with him, but it wasn't as if she could just neglect her duties. The pantry had been quite empty as of late, and Megumi had reminded herself to restock on basic food items after she had a pathetic excuse of instant ramen for dinner the night before. She was sure her father hadn't been happy with the dinner she'd prepared for him either.

She made sure to scratch off the expiry date, if only to lessen his exasperation and concern for his health.

However, declining the offer didn't seem to faze Nishinoya in the slightest. He scarfed down his gari-gari popsicle quickly— a little too quickly for Megumi's comfort. Didn't he ever get brain freeze?

"It's okay! Do you mind if I join you then?"

She squeezed her juice box tightly, blinking in surprise. "E—Eh? Sorry…?"

"I really don't mind coming, and besides, I haven't talked to you in ages!" Nishinoya gave her bright grin, which only seemed to blind her as the clouds opened up to shine a ray of sunlight between them. The scene before her seemed too artificial, as if someone had deliberately ripped a hole in the sky to cast light on Nishinoya. "Well I mean— if you don't mind! If you do, then that's okay too!" He rambled.

Megumi could only nod dumbly, staring at him with a blank face. "I don't," she said shortly.

She hadn't really known what else to say.

Megumi gripped the strap of her bag a little tighter than necessary, the velvet digging into her palms. It would surely leave a mark later, but when did she ever care about things like that? More importantly, wouldn't he get bored? She was only shopping for groceries after all.

Why would Nishinoya choose to waste his time on her? It didn't really make sense to Megumi, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. By the time she finished up her errands, it would probably be late and not to mention  _dark_. There would be nothing more reassuring than having Nishinoya ease her anxiety with his presence, he was one of her few friends and she trusted him.

It was strange that a few months ago, Nishinoya was nothing more than a face in the crowd; and Megumi would've never found herself relaxing around another person. She hated feeling so vulnerable, but it didn't seem  _that_  bad if it was because she could trust somebody else.

"W—Well…" Nishinoya looked away, scratching his cheek absentmindedly. "What do you need to get anyway?"

"Nothing too much, though it's pretty nice to have someone else that can help me carry some things." She produced a purse from her bag and quickly counted her money, gazing at him thoughtfully through her peripheral. "I only need the necessities— if that's what you're worried about."

In other words, ' _I'm not going on a shopping spree_ '. Megumi didn't really have the luxury of recreational shopping either way. She wasn't about to tell him that though. She took one last slurp of her juice box and disposed it in a nearby street bin.

At her reassurance, he brightened up. Though the subtle change in expression was barely noticeable, Megumi noticed the difference right away. Somehow, he just looked  _lighter_.

"Let's go catch a bus then!" Without any warning, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her forward into a sprint towards the nearest bus stop. She almost lost her balance but caught herself right before she tripped on a loose stone in the pavement. "If you finish your shopping early, we have more time to hang out!"

"S—Slow down! The bus won't arrive early just because we did!" Megumi recovered quickly from a misstep, raising her head to glance at Nishinoya's back in front of her.

While Nishinoya  _was_ listening to her, he also  _wasn't_. He raced down the steep decline of the hill, tugging her body along like a useless rag doll. Her breath was knocked out of her lungs, rendering her temporarily unable to speak. Megumi wasn't even  _that_ fast, and yet she was forced to match his speed with no control over her legs.

It was frightening. It was terrifying. Yet despite the fear that blossomed under her ribcage, it was probably the first time Megumi truly felt freedom in its purest form. Not that she'd ever admit that to his face.

* * *

 

Nishinoya winced in sympathy as Megumi crouched over the sidewalk and leaned over her knees, a few passers-by shooting them mixed looks of curiosity and reproach. He placed a hand on her back in hesitation. "…Sorry. My bad."

"It's… okay…" Megumi reassured him between pants and puffs, glancing up at him wearily. The stitch in her side ripped at her stomach with the movement, and she quickly snapped her head back down.  _Oh god, she was going to hurl_ —"It was… fun…"

"Uh… Miyamura? You don't look so good—"

"Because you're…. fast and athletic… and I'm… not…" Megumi deadpanned, though between the panting and weakening strain in her voice, she sounded more pathetic than she would've liked to admit. She wiped the sweat off her brow with her jacket sleeve, looking at him with what must have looked like contorted desperation. "Water… sounds nice though…  _so does a seat_ …"

Once the physical exertion on Megumi's body had ameliorated enough, she stood up unsteadily on her own two feet. Despite the fact that her feet were still sore and tired, her parched throat and dry mouth were no more— courtesy of the water bottle Nishinoya had handed her earlier. Although she still felt the stitch throbbing dully in her side, the pain was bearable, and she had no trouble pretending it did not exist.

"You sure you can stand?" She felt Nishinoya's hand on her shoulder, gripping firmly lest she fall or trip. A small subconscious part of her almost  _liked_  this side of him. That was a selfish thought however, and she wiped it away from her mind before she could even become aware of it.

"Thanks, Nishinoya-kun, but I'm fine…" Megumi breathed, the words sounding less strained on her tongue than before. In an attempt to ease his worry, she gave him a shaky, reassuring smile. "This just shows the difference in our abilities."

"Difference?" Nishinoya seemed to contemplate his reply for a moment before shaking his head. "Well, I don't think that really matters. You can't compare yourself to me when we have different things we're good at!"

Immediately, she whipped her head around to glance at him through wide eyes. Megumi blinked, processing his words as the gears grinded in her mind. He was saying something… profound? It wasn't as if the unexpected compliment had perturbed her  _that_ much, but receiving such an encouraging reassurance for a simple, offhanded comment was enough to surprise anyone. Megumi figured she'd been a little  _too_  obvious with her self-depreciation— especially if Nishinoya had noticed, so she waved him off with a small upturn of her lips. "Uh thanks? I suppose you're right…"

It wasn't long until Megumi had recollected herself enough to begin moving. The shopping district, at least more than a few streets away from Karasuno and only a direct bus away from her home, was Megumi's primary stop for groceries, necessities, clothes, stationary, and anything else she needed to purchase. Ever since she was a child, she'd been coming down to the shopping district once a week, weaving through the adults that bustled past her. She remembered the men and women that had looked like skyscrapers to her one-hundred and twenty-two centimetre, eight-year old self, and she remembered how she'd always despised the dense crowds that towered over her.

Surrounded by so many people, Megumi felt small; like she was eight again and lost in the forest of legs and feet.

The congestion of people swept around Nishinoya and Megumi, like the crashing of ocean waves against rocks. Even somebody like Nishinoya— a person that thrived in the company of others— glanced around the sea of people, clearly uncomfortable and restless. Megumi couldn't help but grab his wrist, ignoring his exclamation of surprise as he called her name over the loud chatter and she dragged him away without a second thought.

"We probably won't get separated this way!" she lied, her voice a tone louder than the rest of the crowd. "Follow me, Nishinoya-kun."

Ironically, now Megumi was the one tugging him along. Weaving through hordes of people with expert ease was second nature to Megumi. It was strange, even to Megumi. Despite the anxiety that coiled in her chest, it didn't necessarily translate to her body language. She was fluid when slipping between people, and even going against the natural flow of the crowd gave her no resistance. Eventually, Megumi slipped into a nearby store, escaping the sea of bodies in the streets.

"S—Sorry." Megumi offered Nishinoya a small, apologetic smile as she released his wrist. "I guess I should've asked first."

"It's fine Miyamura!" Nishinoya said loudly. He looked away from her to glance outside through the store's windows, where people moved hurriedly past the store to go about their daily lives. From where he stood, Megumi couldn't quite discern his expression. Did he look flustered? Or was that just her imagination? "My hands are kinda sweaty though," he mumbled to himself.

Megumi wrinkled her nose in disgust. "That's gross." She quipped.

"It's  _your_ sweat." He clarified.

"Oh."

Hidden from Nishinoya's eyes, she wiped her hands on the hem of her skirt swiftly and indeed— her hands were  _drenched_  in sweat. She hadn't even noticed, too focused on getting away from the crowd than the perspiration her anxiety produced. Had Megumi been standing in his field of vision, he surely would've observed the embarrassment that bloomed red across her face. However, he was not and for that, Megumi was eternally grateful to the gods above.

"…Do you not like crowds Miyamura?" He asked after a while, and Megumi stiffened as she registered the question. "You seemed really tense and you were sweating a lot."

Megumi took a step back and pressed her foot against the floor subconsciously. He was absolutely right, she  _hated_  crowds. Perhaps it was an impact of her height; had Megumi not stood at a measly one hundred and fifty-two centimetres, maybe being surrounded by so many people wouldn't have bothered her as much as it did.

But thinking of 'what-ifs' and 'could have beens' had never been something Megumi particularly fancied. She was one hundred and fifty-two centimetres at sixteen, there was no rhyme or reason to think otherwise.

"You didn't look happy to be around  _that_ many people either, Nishinoya-kun."

"Well, of course not!" Nishinoya said, turning to her. It made her feel  _ashamed_  ashamed she couldn't admit her weaknesses as easily as he could, and ashamed that he'd picked out her flaws so easily. "No one likes being surrounded by so many people!"

' _It makes me feel trapped_ ,' Megumi thought to herself, lowering her gaze to the ground. ' _Like I'm a child again; lost and alone_.'

She wanted to say those words, laced in the feelings she'd never told anyone— the  _truth_. But she couldn't. Nishinoya wasn't an outlet for her anxiety. It was wrong to burden him with her troubles, and yet the lump that had formed in her throat urged her to despite everything. Megumi kept her eyes glued to her feet, her thoughts running a million miles an hour through her head. It was bothersome, it was annoying— she should've never let the unease show in her body language.

Nishinoya looked at her with furrowed brows, his jaw clenching behind the collar of his gakuran. He seemed exasperated with her, and considering how disgraceful Megumi was acting, she didn't blame him. Clearing her throat, she produced a list from her bag and smoothly changed the topic.

"I came here to do some shopping, remember?" Megumi waved the list before his eyes, watching the concern in his eyes fade as he realised the list was  _at least_  thirty centimetres long. "We're getting off track."

"Right!" His eyes lit up in acknowledgement, and the tension in the atmosphere eased away into nothingness. "What's the first thing on the list?"

Between Nishinoya and herself, Megumi couldn't quite discern her how she truly felt. A few minutes after they'd entered the store, Megumi found herself in the produce section, staring at her distorted reflection in the bowl of one of the measuring scales. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to her just how horribly  _domestic_ the entire situation was until it did— after she'd already invited Nishinoya and was currently shopping for groceries with him. The deformed reflection that gazed back at her sighed, her head pulling back and growing disproportionately small compared to the rest of her body.

Although Nishinoya hadn't noticed it, it had become apparent to her over time that they were garnering the attention of the other customers. She had found herself inquiring the reason behind the curious stares and whispers— of the people around them mostly consisting of middle-aged ladies and young children. It was a little overwhelming. She'd never been too comfortable being at the centre of attention, more so when she had  _no idea why_.

Were they questioning her sanity? What had she done to provoke that reaction?

Two ladies, standing on the far left behind Megumi spoke in hushed whispers, and Megumi strained her ears to listen to them. Their reflections in the polished metal of the scales were distorted with unrecognisable disproportion, and Megumi wasn't even sure if she was observing the  _right_   _people_. "High school kids… they remind of my husband and I back in the day~"

"What an adorable-looking couple! Young love is so sweet!"

"They must be planning to have a meal together~" There was a muffled squeal, then the quiet chatter continued. "They're obviously head-over-heels for each other! How cute~"

"Ah~ I feel so old~!"

Oh. So that was it.  _Housewives_   _gossip_.

Megumi's cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she lowered her head to hide her face. If it were possible, she would've preferred to  _actually_  hide; jump in a hole, run away— anything really.

The mere fact Megumi hadn't realised something so blatantly obvious was significant in and out of itself. It measured her comfort around him, how the regular interactions with Nishinoya had become habitual and comfortable. It meant a shift in their relationship would be unnoticeable, their bond too flexible to be restrained by labels like acquaintances, more-than acquaintances or friends. Upon seeing Nishinoya wait for her arrival in front of the school entrance, her thoughts had no longer consisted of scepticism or wariness. Megumi had just  _assumed_  he was there for her, and that he'd gone out of his way to wait for her in front of the school entrance.

What a selfish thought, and yet it didn't bother her as much as she would've initially thought.

Soon before Nishinoya appeared at her side, the ladies dispersed, allowing Megumi just enough time to compose herself before he could notice how flustered she was. Despite her best efforts, heat lingered at the tip of her ears and painted her skin a brighter red than usual. However, if his nonchalant attitude was an indication of anything, he probably  _hadn't_ noticed.

"I think that's everything I need here…" Megumi muttered to herself, brushing a stray hair behind her ear as it obscured her vision. Nishinoya handed her a few groceries as he measured a bag at a time on the scales, the scales dipped slightly with the weight. "I still need to go get the milk, eggs and— wait, what's that?"

"A leek."

She stared at him blankly. "Those are spring onions, Nishinoya-kun."

There was a moment of brief silence as Nishinoya paused, returning a stare that was equally as blank as her own. "I really thought they were leeks though!" He protested.

"Leeks have round, hollow leaves." Megumi recalled, pointing to the stalks sticking out of the bag. "Spring onions have large, flat leaves— see?"

"Oh… You're pretty informed Miyamura!"

"About  _leeks_   _and_   _spring onions_?" She asked flatly.

Nishinoya gave a boisterous laugh. "It's good to know all sorts of things!"

"That's—" Megumi sighed, shaking her head. "—an interesting way to look at things, I suppose."

She reached for the bag in the scales, wrapping her arms around the base of the bag. The scales swayed with the movement, bouncing back to its original position. He must've mistaken the spring onions for leeks, not bothering to check the label that had been stabbed in each pile of fruit and vegetables. She didn't blame him. He  _was_  helping her to finish the errand efficiently after all. "I'll get the leeks. Um… Nishinoya-kun? Could you start getting the milk and eggs? I'll join you later."

"Sure." Nishinoya turned away and began to push along the shopping cart, giving her a brief glance over his shoulder. Despite the ephemeral stare, Megumi adjusted her grip on the bag of spring onions and peered through the stalks to meet his eye before he disappeared around the corner.

Fingers brushing idly over her the plastic bag, Megumi exhaled through her nose. She pulled out the shopping list from her pocket, tearing off twenty centimetres from the top of the list before crumbling and discarding it. At the very least, it appeared as if her errand wouldn't last as long as she had thought, or perhaps it was because Nishinoya was here, helping her.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't grateful— she truly was.

* * *

 

Megumi gazed down into the puddle at her feet, kicking the water idly as the drops that hung at the edge of her shoes were flung away onto the side of the road. The puddle rippled with movement, her form wavering in the reflection of the indigo sky and white clouds above her.

It was probably sometime after seven o'clock, only barely before the second-last bus arrived for the night. The afternoon spent with Nishinoya had quickly shifted to night, and she'd barely noticed when the blue-stained skies began to darken to the faint luminance of twilight. As the saying goes, 'time flies by when you're having fun', and in a way, she supposed it  _had_ been fun. Simply enjoying another's company, expecting nothing but the pleasure of another's presence.

Without having any friends for almost all her life, Megumi couldn't have said she'd ever experienced that feeling before.

Sitting in comfortable silence beside Nishinoya, her mind wandered away from that dimly lit bus stop and she found herself curious about him. He didn't really know much about her and in turn— she didn't really know much about him. Did he have any siblings? What was his favourite colour? What was his favourite food? Insignificant questions such as those were suddenly prominent in her mind, and Megumi found herself yearning to broaden her limited knowledge of who he was to her.

So with the hesitant clench of the hem of her skirt, Megumi spoke with unusual lucidity. "What's your favourite subject at school, Nishinoya-kun?"

Nishinoya blinked as her voice rang clear throughout the desolate street. Then with a small laugh, he regarded her with something akin to mirth. "You say that so seriously, Miyamura!" He said jokingly.

"Well—I just… um…" With a small frown and an embarrassed duck of her head, Megumi glanced at him in her peripheral. To him however, her empty stare simply gazed into reflection in the puddle of the halcyon night sky. "You're my friend, Nishinoya-kun. My  _first_  friend— but I still don't know too much about you."

"I guess so… huh?" Nishinoya leaned back into the seat, contemplating her question for a brief moment. "I don't really have a favourite subject! My least favourite subject is contemporary literature though."

Well, that didn't really change anything she knew about him.

Megumi leaned forward on her seat, turning her head to look at him properly. "What about pets then? Do you own any animals?"

"Just a dog," he answered. "You look like you would own a pet too, Miyamura! What about you?"

Megumi shook her head and leaned back against the wall of the bus stop shelter, the glass fogging up with her warm breath as she exhaled. "I… don't own any pets," she said as she peered at him through half-lidded eyes. "I think I'd be a cat person though, if I could afford to own one."

There was a moment of silence. Nishinoya appeared to be deep in thought for a moment, his eyes glazed as his fingers twitched in his lap. His expression was unreadable, and Megumi shifted her body slightly to get a better look at him. It was strange— seeing such a serious look on his face.

The last time she'd seen that face was right before Karasuno lost to Datekougyou.

"Does... your family have money problems, Miyamura?" Nishinoya's voice was soft to her ears, his blank expression indecipherable.

It was in that brief moment, that Megumi realised she had  _worried_  him.

"N—No!" Megumi shot up from her seat, her knee jolting with pain as it collided with the corner of her seat. Wincing, she shook her head wildly to clear up the misunderstanding. Her brown locks whipped her face with motion and her eyes stung with the sensation. "We're not poor, but we're not rich either… so we're kind of just average? My father has a well-paying job, plus he's a workaholic!"

Megumi combed her hair back behind her ear, nervously rambling. "I used to have a part-time job too, but I quit a long time ago. It wasn't necessary either way, just a side income for my family!"

When she finally took a breath and opened her eyes, Nishinoya appeared as if he had shuffled back on his seat in surprise. His eyes were wide, and he looked taken aback by her outburst, blinking as if he were still comprehending her words.

"O—Oh," he said finally, then giving her sheepish smile. "That's good then! I was pretty worried there for a sec!"

The tension in her cheeks faded, her expression softening. "Thank you, but there's nothing you need to be worried about Nishinoya-kun."

Nishinoya nodded and Megumi sat back down, smoothing out the creases in her skirt as she did so. Glancing up into the great abyss of the sky above, she noticed the absence of the indigo twilight, replaced with the black cape of the traditional night. The stars had begun to peep into the eyes of the beholder, flecking small dots of light amongst the ocean of darkness. It appeared as if was a moonless night, the stars twinkling happily as if proud of that fact.

Megumi had never been one for astronomy, but even she could appreciate the beauty of the night sky every once in a while.

"Your dad, huh?" Nishinoya's brow furrowed in thought and Megumi blinked at him in mild curiosity. "You never really talk about your family, do you?"

"Well, you don't either." Megumi pointed out.

"I live with my gramps!" Nishinoya puffed out his chest proudly, somewhat resembling a small bird— like a penguin. Thinking about it, the mental image was kind of cute… "He was always pretty tough on me y'know?"

"That would explain a lot." She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Megumi looked away into the darkened street, the street lamps barely illuminating the road. There was a chill in the air, goosebumps rising on the skin of her bare legs.

Nishinoya had always been a strong person— at least in Megumi's eyes. She figured his personality  _must've_ been moulded by someone or something as tough as he was.

Hugging her club jacket closer to her body, Megumi opened her mouth to speak. "I have a pretty small family, just… my father. He works a lot, so I only see him once in a blue moon. And when he isn't at work, he's locked away in his study…"

Absentmindedly tracing a heart in the misty glass beside her, Megumi trailed off. Her voice grew silent, and her expression became distant. To Nishinoya, she must've had a faraway look on her face, her mind in a different place than her body. It felt strange; Megumi rarely ever spoke about her father, and admitting she wasn't even  _that_  close with him felt even stranger. Knowing was one thing, talking about it was another.

Nishinoya stared at her for a long moment, then turned away to look at his hands in his lap. "So you're not that close to him huh?"

"Not really, no," she said truthfully, "I probably don't even see him once a week, but I can understand why."

"…What?... That's— Isn't he your father?! Shouldn't he at least make some time for you?"

Megumi shrugged, frowning at his reply. "I'm sure he has better things to do. I'm not a child anymore, so I'm independent enough to take care of myself."

"That's not the problem!" Nishinoya stressed, his face twisting into something akin to annoyance and anger. Whether or not his emotions were directed at her, Megumi couldn't tell. "I mean— I know you're independent! But you're still his daughter, aren't you?!"

"He's a single father and he's still—"

Nishinoya looked as if he was about to pull out his hair. "That isn't an excuse! Your dad can't just— Ah! Forget it!"

Blinking owlishly at him, Megumi glanced at him for a brief moment before she did a double take. Was he irritated at her father on  _her_ behalf? It was a fair reaction, she just hadn't expected him to have anything but an impassive response. Perhaps she had thought too little of him.

On one hand, she understood  _exactly_  what Nishinoya was saying.

On the other hand, she couldn't reciprocate his anger towards her father to any degree. Perhaps she had felt that way at some point, but just like how the moon waxed and waned, those feelings had withered away into a distant memory. She had simply stopped thinking about it, and before long she had stopped feeling anything at all.

She just really couldn't find it in her to care.

"…It doesn't bother me," Megumi said after a while, her voice sounding surprisingly steady and calm. "I think it's only a problem if it does…"

Nishinoya's annoyance and anger appeared to fade away, and a blank— almost empty expression emerged instead. Megumi sat up as Nishinoya's face darkened, his silhouette prominent as their surroundings grew brighter through the headlights of a passing car. The light behind him drew shadows over his face, hiding any discernible expression that might have given away how he felt.

When the blinding light melted away into a soft glow, she could see his expression again. Nishinoya was quiet, thinking to himself and his look on his face constantly shifted between wanting to say something and  _not_.

It was as if he was deliberating the best course of action; something uncommon for such an impulsive person like Nishinoya who tended to handle situations in the most straight-forward way possible.

By the time Megumi had begun to grow uncomfortable with the long-lasting silence between them, he appeared as if he had gathered his thoughts. Nishinoya's expression was a mix between determined and resolute, gazing at her intently and almost  _predatorily_.

"Well anyway, if you're ever feeling crappy about anything, you can talk to me." Nishinoya said, his voice a tone lower and softer than his usual vibrancy. "If your dad isn't around, I'll be there! I've got your back Miyamura, so come to me for anything!"

With those words, Megumi felt something clench within the depths of her heart.

Her insignificant life story had  _meant_ something to him, and it was enough for him to  _care_. Chalking up her emotions to the simple, definitive term of 'touched' felt like too little; it was more than that. The gesture had struck a chord in her heart, and it almost made her tear up.

She wanted to thank him for caring.

"…I'll think about it," she said half-jokingly.

"W—What? Come on, Miyamura!"

Megumi looked away, her gaze trained on the scenery through the transparent walls of the bus stop. She lowered her eyes to her hand that rested against the glass and spoke again. "I will, I will." She reassured him, then turned to meet his gaze. "Sometimes I think you're a little too cool," she said wistfully.

"H—Huh?" Under the dim street lamps and the murky lighting of the bus stop, Nishinoya's red face almost illuminated the darkness. He spluttered broken protests and complaints, as if to hide the fact he was secretly flattered by the praise. Did she embarrass him  _that_  much? "What the… That's not—! I'm not— Miyamura! You—"

"…It's true— well, at least it always is for me." Pensively glancing up at the night sky, the stars twinkled down at Megumi as if in some kind of reply to her melancholic sighs. "I admire you a lot, Nishinoya-kun."

Nishinoya gave a strained laugh and ducked his head, and only then, Megumi realised just how saccharine her words were.

She turned her head around quickly, almost whipping him with the ends of her hair. "Um—! That's just what I think anyway!" Megumi said awkwardly. "Sorry for worrying you so much… everything is okay though, really!"

Pushing herself off her seat, Megumi kept her back towards him as she took a step forward. Her foot lifted from its spot within the puddle before it stopped on a dry pavement, a wet foot print marking the pavement beneath.

As a bus began to approach the bus stop in her peripheral, her body was enveloped in the soft glow of its headlights and she heard Nishinoya hum in reply as he began to gather the groceries from the tiring day they had spent shopping.

Nishinoya didn't have a favourite subject, but his least favourite was contemporary literature. He also owned a dog, and he lived with a grandfather that had shaped him into the person she had grown so close to.

They were simple facts in his life, insignificant knowledge that affected her view of him in no way, and yet his answers to her questions remained distinct in her mind. Those inklings of Nishinoya felt important to her, just like the fond memories she had always yearned to appear in her life.

_But that's only natural isn't it?_

To cherish Nishinoya's friendship that had been bestowed upon her so generously, she convinced herself the warmth in her heart was a good thing.

"Thank you for everything today, Nishinoya-kun."

* * *

 

**EXTRA SCENE**

The night before the Interhigh, Tadashi lingered outside the gym for a brief moment, debating whether or not train at Shimada's place. Although Ukai had suggested everyone rest early for the long day tomorrow, he still felt as though he hadn't trained enough. He felt weak, paling in comparison to the rest of the first years.

Tsukki had always been talented, and Tadashi had always strove to be as good as he was.

It had been that way for the longest time, since elementary school, the entirety of middle school and even in their first year of high school; but after he'd met Kageyama and Hinata, and their subsequent designation as starters alongside Tsukki, Tadashi realised  _it wasn't enough_.

And thus began his realisations of inferiority. Tsukki had his height, Kageyama and Hinata had their god-like quick, and what did Tadashi have? Nothing.

It wasn't enough to play volleyball for fun anymore, he wanted to stand on court with everyone else. He wanted to be just as good— no,  _better_  than Tsukki. It wasn't enough to follow after Tsukki anymore, Tadashi wanted to stand strong with his own two feet, emerging from Tsukki's shadow to chase after victory rather than enjoyment.

He wanted to master the float serve, he wanted to hone his sharpest weapon, one that he had only begun to practice with a mere week ago. Was it really okay to call it night? He still felt inadequate enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with everyone else.

"Ryuu!" Nishinoya's exasperated voice cut through Tadashi's thoughts like a sharp blade, and he was mildly startled by Nishinoya's annoyance. "I've told you so many times, we're not like that!"

" _Sureeee..._ "

Nishinoya looked as if he wanted to pull out his hair. "She's only coming to watch our games cause' of  _her club_! Besides, my heart is set on our lovely Kiyoko-san!"

Tanaka only grabbed his shoulders, a gravely serious look on his face. "It's okay, Noya-san. I understand you're a loyal guy, but don't deny yourself who you really—"

"Megu—  _Miyamura_  and me aren't like that!" Nishinoya repeated, glaring at Tanaka.

Tanaka snickered. "You almost just called her Megumi,  _didn't you_?~"

"RYUU!"

Tadashi blinked, processing their words as their backs faded into the distance.

 _Miyamura Megumi_ …

Hadn't Shimada mentioned that name before…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running on four hours of sleep and caffeine. ONWARD MY STEED.
> 
> Date of Publish - (09.10.2018)


	5. The Imperfections Within Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight occurs between Suzuki and her team, and Megumi becomes involved involuntarily. Of course, just because Megumi understands everything that goes down—it doesn't mean she handles it properly, or even succeeds in remedying the situation.

Consciousness only returned to Megumi when she had well and truly dipped into her dark, tumultuous dream world—awakening from what she could only describe as REM sleep. Her mind and body were drowning in the state of simply  _being_ — _existing_ , and nothing else. Her memories—that cursed wheelchair and that wretched empty house—appeared and vanished through the pale lights flickering in the cracks of her dissolving dream world, and through the slits of her eyelids.

Megumi's body felt fatigued and sluggish. The bright flare of the morning sun cut through her disorientated vision like a knife and she stirred, blinking rapidly and peeking at the blurry figure that had woken her up through her lashes.

"Have you rested up, Miyamura-san?" The girl's long, black ponytail spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall over a cliff, and Megumi squinted at the bleary-looking person before her. "We've almost arrived at the venue, and I thought it was only proper to rouse you from your sleep."

Rubbing her eyes wearily, it took Megumi few seconds for the world focus and grow starkly clearer. It took even longer to recognise the girl sitting next to her: Suzuki Kaede, her self-designated bus buddy that had insisted to sit beside Megumi during the bus ride. Although Megumi attempted to protest that 'Suzuki should sit with her friends instead', Suzuki's poorly-hidden zealousness had caused the words to die in her throat.

"I'm sorry for sleeping the whole ride," Megumi apologised, her voice still slurred and drowsy from sleep. "I probably wasn't great company…"

Suzuki shook her vehemently. "That's not true at all! I should be the one apologising for disrupting your rest!"

Megumi laughed a little, shaking away her bed hair and combing her fingers through her wavy strands. Glancing at the window to her side, she inspected her reflection and found nothing out of place. True to Suzuki's word, the bus turned left, leaving the main road and entering what Megumi supposed was the Sendai City Gymnasium's carpark.

The Interhigh Preliminaries huh?

Megumi really just… wasn't looking forward to it.

As the weeks had lazily rolled by, the Interhigh preliminaries for volleyball approached on Megumi's hectic schedule. While Nishinoya had been enthused when he figured she'd  _eventually_  end up watching his games, Megumi couldn't say the same. Instead she had given him stiff nod and a tight smile, hiding away the tempestuous emotions within her. Truth be told, Megumi dreaded the prospect of failing to impress her seniors once again.

She tried, struggled, worked until her fingers grew numb with exhaustion and yet all she could produce was the same monotony of words, blended together into a lacklustre piece of work—an 'article'. Megumi had no idea what she was doing wrong, only that she was. Time and time again, she grew frustrated with herself and the below average quality she churned out to her seniors.

And Yuuki… He had…

" _You want my opinion? People enjoy reading things that stand out." Yuuki shrugged and handed Megumi's article about the soccer Interhigh qualifiers back to her. "Can you honestly say your work isn't lifeless?"_

"I hope you aren't being overworked in that new club of yours, Miyamura-san," Suzuki said from behind, concern evident in the creases of her brow. Megumi snapped her head away from the window and the thoughts that plagued her mind, turning to face Suzuki. "You appear much more tired these days."

"Um… Do I?" Megumi gave a small, awkward giggle and sheepishly combed her brown hair behind her ear. "I guess I  _have_ been working hard lately, but it's really not that."

"Is Amakawa troubling you? If he is, I'll make sure he doesn't see the light of—"

"No, no! Of course not!" Megumi denied quickly, watching the dangerous glint in Suzuki's eye fade. For a brief moment, Yuuki's words had echoed from the back of her mind once again. Her work was…  _lifeless_ ; devoid of passion or excitement for sports in general. Living up to the expectations set by her predecessor was no easy task after all, and Megumi felt herself physically struggling under the pressure.

What her articles lacked wasn't anything solid she could improve with practice. No—what her articles lacked was  _heart_.

"…Actually, Yuuki-san's been really helpful." Megumi added after a short pause.

"Yuuki—you call that jerk by his first name?!"

Watching as Suzuki's face turned to an unflattering shade of purple, Megumi leaned back into the window seat and raised a curious brow. She never really quite understood the animosity between Yuuki and Suzuki. Sure—Suzuki was a little unreliable—but she wasn't a bad person. Yuuki didn't seem like the judgemental type, and Megumi could only guess why they had such a bad relationship.

Megumi tilted her head. "He asked me to call him that. Um… should I not…?"

Suzuki snapped her head away quickly. "N—No. I suppose there's nothing wrong with that." She sniffed. "Am I the only one he treats like crap?"

"Probably." Megumi commented. Suzuki stiffened, and Megumi wondered if she should've said that at all. "He seems pretty calm and level-headed—at least that's what I think. I wonder why you two don't really get along."

"How would I know?" Suzuki said lowly, her eyes glued to the fingertips digging into her thighs.

The tires of the bus rumbled beneath their feet, loose pebbles on the concrete flying away as the bus ran over them. Around them, the rest of the girls' volleyball team chattered away excitedly, pointing at the different teams in the vicinity of the gymnasium's entrance. Megumi vaguely gleaned something along the lines of 'Shiratorizawa', 'Aoba Jōhsai' amongst various other school names, and she wondered if she should've studied up on the different schools participating in the tournament.

Although Megumi had received a list of match-ups for the day, it wasn't as if she had actually  _looked_  over it yet.

Eventually, the momentum of the bus stopped, and the students and teachers in the bus began to vacate the vehicle. Suzuki gathered her things and stood up. She swung her duffel bag over her shoulders, glancing down at Megumi whom had begun to shuffle out of the window seat. "Earlier, you said that you were tired for another reason. Miyamura-san, may I ask why?"

Megumi simply shook her head and smiled. However, Suzuki only looked more sceptical. "I just didn't sleep very well, no need to worry about it."

"…If you say so," Suzuki said, obviously not convinced. She stepped back to allow Megumi access into the aisle, raising her brow suspiciously as Megumi said nothing.

On the way out, her bag felt a little heavier against her back. With each step she took, the weight of its contents bounced against her shoulders and Megumi gazed down to her feet. She felt somewhat self-conscious—the real reason she was so worn out was foolish enough to begin with, and she didn't even know  _why_  she'd been so adamant to strain herself more than necessary anyway. It was just  _lunch_.

If anything, it was probably just to save a couple hundred yen.

Unlike the gloomy, grey-soaked skies on the day of the soccer Interhigh qualifiers, there wasn't a single cloud to obscure the bright rays of the sun. Megumi stepped out of the bus with an eyeful of vivid blues, and shielded her eyes from the blinding sunlight with the back of her hand.

Clear, sunny skies; Megumi had expected as much in June, albeit it was only early Summer. Although she wasn't as much of a Summer person than she was a Winter person, the weather only seemed to bolster her mood. It was strange, but despite the self-doubt she had begun to associate with anything to do with the journalism club, there was also a small sense of excitement within her.

Thinking back to the match with Nekoma, there had been something that drew in Megumi—something she couldn't describe in words. She doubted it was people—she barely knew them. Was it the volleyball? Before she even joined the journalism club however, nothing about the sport had particularly appealed to her.

She just felt eager, for some reason.

The small buzzing of anticipation in her chest changed into a soft fluttering as the smell of gasoline filled her nostrils. Another bus pulled up next to the girls' volleyball team, and their male counterparts bounded out of the bus with an air of enthusiasm. Hinata and Kageyama were the first to leap out of the bus, pushing and shoving each other impatiently as the bus door gradually slid open.

"We're here! We're here!" Hinata cheered, jumping up and down and poking Kageyama in the arm. "The Interhigh! Kageyama! Hey, Kageya—"

"I can see that, dumbass!" Kageyama snapped, brushing Hinata's hands away from his bicep irritably. "Calm down!"

Hinata took a quick glance towards the entrance of the stadium, his eyes widening as he blatantly ignored Kageyama and tugged harshly at his sleeve. "T—That's the great king! Over there!"

"Where?!"

Moments later, a tall blonde boy emerged from the bus, followed closely by a brown-haired boy and the rest of the boys' volleyball team. Megumi caught sight of Nishinoya's distinct tuft of blonde hair towards the back of group, making animated gestures to Tanaka whom nodded back with just as much liveliness.

Knowing them, Megumi figured their fervour had likely been spurred on by either volleyball, Shimizu, or the general female population.

"Well, aren't they a bunch of simpletons?" The blonde boy muttered, glancing pointedly at Kageyama and Hinata a few metres away. The boy beside him snickered at the comment, and Megumi couldn't help but agree wholeheartedly.

At the very least, she admired their enthusiasm.

It wasn't long before the two teams meshed together with the necessary roll calls and general outlining of the day's schedule. With ease, Megumi quietly moved away from the centre of the crowd weaved through the volleyball players—separated noticeably by a gender barrier—one by one towards a less claustrophobic area. It was a complete coincidence that she ended right next to Suzuki, whom gave her a quick side glance in greeting as Megumi took a place beside her.

The meeting was adjourned quickly after the club advisors wrapped up their final instructions: to exercise the conduct expected of Karasuno students. Megumi followed after the two teams besides Suzuki, dragging her feet against the concrete and watching the backs of the others continue ahead without them. For a moment, the boys' team seemed to be threatening another school, but it seemed to be dealt with swiftly by the captain.

"Sawamura-san is a reliable captain, isn't he?" Suzuki commented, looking at Megumi in a way that said ' _reply, so things don't get too awkward_ '.

"Y—Yeah. I guess so…" Ducking her head, Megumi simply nodded stiffly in agreement and the conversation ended before it had even started.

While Suzuki wasn't exactly bad company—they weren't really friends, per se. In a way, Megumi had almost felt as if she was somehow burdening Suzuki with her presence like a thorn in her side. Although the taller girl hadn't indicated anything of the sort with any kind of scathing, roundabout remarks or flippant comments, the awkward boundaries of acquaintanceship weighed heavy in their friendly interactions.

Perhaps Suzuki was just a kind person—pitying Megumi whom had no friends amongst the eight girls in the volleyball team. Megumi couldn't think of any other reason; there was probably no other reason.

With the thought still vividly present in her mind, they walked in silence for the rest of the time they spent together, and Megumi turned to leave with a hasty farewell when the boys' team parted ways from the girls' team. If Suzuki cared in the slightest, she didn't say a word about Megumi's poorly hidden attempt to get away from her.

If anything, Megumi had probably just imagined the hurt that flickered in Suzuki's eyes.

* * *

 

Seeing as it was Megumi's first (official) time she was working with the volleyball team, she didn't quite expect the fierce, competitive spirit in the atmosphere. From all sides, sharp words pierced the tense aura that came off the team in waves. Unlike with the soccer team, Karasuno had somewhat of a reputation. 'Fallen powerhouse' and 'flightless crows' were phrases that were thrown around carelessly before the team—and to add insult to injury, people spoke of slanderous rumours regarding the team in question or more specifically, a player named Azumane Asahi.

Azumane Asahi… Megumi had no doubt it was the player Nishinoya had fought with a few months before. However, with how Nishinoya had described the circumstances of their fight, she seriously doubted the validity of Azumane's so called 'nefarious' reputation.

Still, Megumi found Karasuno's status as a 'fallen powerhouse' interesting, to say the least. How long ago was their prime time? What had changed?

In her eyes, she considered Karasuno to be strong—but then again, there were likely teams that were much stronger. Her opinion on the matter was highly unreliable and biased, so Megumi tossed it away without much resistance. If Karasuno was truly as powerful as she thought they were, they'd live up to her word.

Straying further away from the rest of the pack and ducking her head at the unwanted attention, Megumi sighed to herself quietly. It was laughable really; Megumi looked out of place in more ways than one. Her journalism club attire over her school uniform seemed like a poor attempt to fit in with the rest of the volleyball team, and the distance she'd placed between herself and everyone else emphasised the former appear even more prominently.

But between being labelled—as essentially, a failure or a loner; Megumi found herself more inclined to be seen as a loner.

Megumi glanced up from her feet as Nishinoya and Tanaka surrounded Shimizu protectively, growling like feral animals rather than the guard dogs they probably thought of themselves as. As unflappable as Shimizu was, she brought down the notebooks in her hands down to their heads and walked off, all while Nishinoya and Tanaka crumbled to their masochistic tendencies.

Well, at least  _that_  never changed.

"Hey, that short guy…" One person said, "that's Chidoriyama's Nishinoya."

Upon hearing the name, Megumi perked up and gazed directly at the source—a boy standing to the side facing whom she assumed was his friend.

"He won the overall best libero award back in middle school." He continued, giving a long glance at Nishinoya.

"Eh, really?"

Nishinoya… won the best libero award? If Megumi hadn't respected him as much as she already did, she would've faltered in awe of him—but she didn't. She already knew that he was a good libero and instead, felt her chest swell in pride for her friend. At the very least, she supposed Karasuno's reputation wasn't stained with completely terrible rumours; some were positive, like Nishinoya's prowess as a libero and apparently Kageyama's unrivalled talent as a setter.

Megumi wondered why Kageyama seemed to get mad at that though; wasn't 'King of the Court' a compliment?

With her feet padding quietly against the polished floor tiles, Megumi took those physically demanding steps forward—not too quickly lest she re-join the group, but not too slow as to fall behind. Despite the extra hour of sleep that she had happily snoozed away on the bus, she stifled a yawn and tightened her grip on the bag slung lazily around her shoulders. The exhaustion was bone-deep, spanning weeks and weeks of little to no sleep. Megumi only barely survived on a cup of caffeine a day but even then, the faux energy boost couldn't fix a train wreck of a sleeping schedule.

Fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, Megumi felt her mouth draw into a thin line and she found herself glancing up towards the backs of the volleyball players walking ahead of her—or more specifically, Nishinoya. Although she didn't exactly  _want_ to socialise with so many people, there was a cold feeling that came with the momentary gazes—longing to socialise, but  _not_ at the same time. Was this… envy?

She felt… jealous of Nishinoya? Just like how she'd come to acknowledge Nishinoya as her friend, did Megumi also want to…?

No—she was probably just tired.

Shaking her head, Megumi gave a final glance towards the team— _Nishinoya's team_ —before she lowered her gaze to the ground and followed after them wordlessly. It wasn't her place. She didn't  _need_  a place. She was content, as she always had been.

The hallway around them soon shifted into an open area—the lobby, which boasted a higher ceiling with horizontal rafters and a strange wall decoration Megumi felt the strange inclination to name as 'moon face'. In the scenery stretched out beyond the towering windows, the sky was cut off where the glass met the rafters—sunlight creeping into the lobby all the more ethereally.

Pausing, she took an appreciative breath in and continued walking.

It wasn't long before the team reached their destination—a corridor that lead directly into the courts where they'd play against the teams they'd be pitted up against for the day. Hinata's cries of awe and excitement served as somewhat of a distraction, and the team didn't seem to notice as Nishinoya uncharacteristically slinked away quietly to stand by Megumi's side.

"Um… you're facing Tokonami first, right?" Megumi asked apprehensively, looking down at the list of matchups as Nishinoya approached her. "I don't think I've heard of that school before."

Nishinoya shrugged, grinning with a confident, boisterous energy. "Me neither, but we're gonna beat them either way!"

Megumi gave a small, awkward laugh, rolling the paper back up and resting it in the palm of her hand. Sure, it was admirable to have faith like Nishinoya did—but winning was easier said than done. It wasn't as if she didn't believe in Karasuno's skill—she'd seen their level of play firsthand, but aside from that, she knew little to nothing about the opposition. Were they a formidable team? Could Karasuno pull through successfully?

Megumi could only reserve judgement until the moment she would witness Tokonami play herself.

"We'll see," she said, a slightly teasing tone lining the surface of her words. Nishinoya's smile seemed to brighten, like he'd been reinvigorated by the challenge. If he was fired up before, he was arguably even more so now, with his eyes flared and focused with excitement.

Volleyball was probably the only thing that could get him like this.

"You're gonna watch the game, right Miyamura?"

"No, actually," Megumi said sheepishly, and a look of confusion bloomed across his face. "I can't be in two places at once—since I have to watch the girls' match too—so um… yeah! I'll probably just leave a video camera behind and watch the match when I get home."

"Oh."

He sounded… disappointed—like he  _wanted_  her to witness the match. Watching the moment his face dropped, a feeling of guilt and sympathy birthing in her chest. In a way, she felt touched that her presence  _meant_  something him, albeit the game would likely be the focal point of his attention rather than Megumi. Regardless, it was what she had decided, and it wasn't as if she could change things now.

"I don't think it matters whether I'm there or not…" Megumi trailed off. "…I mean— _you're_  the ones on the court after all."

Nishinoya frowned for a moment, but his demeanour reverted back to his usual bravado quickly. "Well, of course it does! Anyone would get fired up if a girl was watching them!"

"But you're not interested in me," Megumi said flatly. "Shimizu-san  _is_  watching the match though, isn't that enough to fire you up?"

"I want  _you_  to watch me play, Miyamura."

Those bold words—words of such straight-forward simplicity—had blood rushing to Megumi's cheeks almost instantly, her face flushing and growing warm against the cool, conditioned air. Nishinoya was direct as always, and Megumi really  _shouldn't_  have felt as embarrassed as she did in that moment. It wasn't as if he meant anything else after all.

Nishinoya glanced away sheepishly. "W—Well… Kiyoko-san watching me definitely fires me up! But you're…" He paused in hesitation. "…my friend, y'know! I gotta show you what I'm made of!"

Right. She really  _did_  have no reason to be embarrassed.

"Oh, I see…" Megumi blinked, a soft smile gracing her lips after a brief second. Her arms dropped to her sides and her sleeves fell over her wrists, hiding her hands from sight. "Um… I'm planning to alternate teams between each game, so all you guys have to do… is just win, okay? I'll watch your next game."

The silence that followed was lengthy, drawn out for far longer than Megumi would've liked. Glancing up at Nishinoya briefly, his reaction had somehow strengthened the battering of the butterflies' wings against her ribcage. Had she said something weird?

His eyes glazed over with an ineffable emotion. He looked as if he had spaced out, a blank expression drawing over his face as he simply just  _stared_. It was slightly unnerving but the second her nervous smile dropped, Nishinoya seemed to blink back into reality as if nothing had ever happened.

Nishinoya cleared his throat loudly, focusing his eyes on the lights fixed into the ceiling. "Y—Yeah! We'll definitely win! Just watch Miyamura!"

Megumi nodded, clasping her hands under her chin and exhaling in relief. "I believe you then, Nishinoya-kun."

After a moment, Nishinoya grinned. "Still, you're always so serious when you say stuff like that Miyamura!" he said, his hands lazily resting around the back of his neck. "Makes' me little embarrassed sometimes too."

"Oh…" Megumi ducked her head slightly, laughing quietly to herself. "I guess I'll never change, huh?"

"You don't need to change, Miyamura. There's nothing wrong with the way you are!"

Megumi sighed, shaking her head affectionately. "…You're kind of hypocrite, aren't you?"

"A hypo—what?"

"Never mind," Megumi said, pushing her body off where it had been leaning against the wall. She turned from him, and kept her smile hidden behind the wavy hair that framed the sides of her face. "We should head back."

With the sound of his footsteps echoing the reverberations of her own, they made their way back to that same corridor they'd left earlier. With her fingers brushing idly against the loose strap of her bag, Megumi found herself in lighter mood than before. Although she wasn't a huge fanatic of volleyball—Nishinoya was, and his enthusiasm had been infectious to the point where she felt her own lethargy melt away.

She was sure—without a doubt, he'd keep his word and  _win_.

When they'd arrived back, Karasuno—for better or worse—appeared worse for wear than they'd initially been at the start of the day. The air of excitement had seemingly vanished, replaced with a cold fierceness Megumi hadn't really expected from the team. Just what had happened while they were gone?

However, the one who seemed affected the most was Azumane—having apparently lost his ability to function properly.

In contrast to how tall and menacing his build supposedly suggested, Azumane was as stiff as a board. A layer of cold sweat trickled down from his forehead, and he stared blankly at an empty spot in front of the doors leading into the courts. Megumi found herself comparing Azumane's pale complexion to one of a ghost's. It was almost as though his soul had left his body, leaving behind a frozen shell. One of the third-years, probably the one named 'Sugawara' seemed flabbergasted for some unknown reason.

Out of context, the sight before them was… strange, to say the least.

"Asahi-san?" Nishinoya called out from behind her. "What's wrong?!"

Sugawara sighed, shaking his head. "Dateko…" He seemed to hesitate, gazing over to Nishinoya to gauge his reaction. "…seems to be targeting our ace— _again_."

 _Again_? What was that supposed to mean?

Learning Dateko had targeted Azumane specifically—and was planning to once again—was completely new information to her.

She only knew bits and pieces about Karasuno's bitter loss from what Nishinoya had been willing to divulge, but that was it. As visibly upset as Nishinoya had been after the match, Megumi hadn't been curious enough to really ask, nor did she have any reason to. Such an insensitive action would have only angered him and reopened old wounds—even Megumi had enough tact to keep the topic untouched.

And judging from the way Nishinoya stiffened up at the simple mention of 'Datekougyou', Megumi hadn't been too far off with her assumption.

For a moment, Nishinoya seemed to process what Sugawara revealed. "…And why are you so scared?" He demanded, watching stonily as the tension in Azumane's shoulders seemed to intensify. Although his voice hadn't carried much antagonism, the bleak aura surrounding the team almost seemed to harshen—grating against her skin, and drowning everyone in a thick layer of pressure.

Although she wasn't involved in any way at all, Megumi glanced away and swallowed a lump in her throat.

After that, nobody else seemed to really say anything.

It took a while before the captain was able to remedy the situation as much as he could and by the time Megumi left for the stands, the team seemed to have mostly forgotten the tense—almost oppressive—atmosphere that had come with the mere mention of Datekougyou.

Nishinoya appeared to almost regret his words, giving quick, ephemeral glances at Azumane's backside. From an outsider's point of view, she didn't find any fault with what he had pointed out—only the way he had said it. But even Nishinoya wasn't perfect, and it was clear the pressure was getting to him as well.

As much as she wanted to talk to him again—insignificant as her efforts would've been—she made no move to approach him again. She had no idea how to alleviate any of the pressure he felt—or the pressure everybody else felt for that matter. So she just left it alone, like the meek person she'd always been.

And yet all this tension was simply just the calm before the storm.

* * *

 

It had never really occurred to Megumi just how  _entirely_ different the boys' and girls' teams were until the stark contrasts were painted blatantly before her eyes. In a short span of time—only an hour into the match—it became obvious to Megumi who would win the match and move on to the next. It certainly wasn't  _Karasuno_ , unless they somehow made a miraculous comeback with a set and a half under the other team's belt, and none under theirs.

Still, Megumi hung over the side of the railing and continued to record the match through careful observation. While the girls clearly knew the basics of volleyball, they lacked the same refinement that characterised the players of the opposing team. They were clumsy, hesitant—moving too slowly and fearfully to really even begin a rally over the net.

It was a pitiful sight. Megumi didn't even want to watch.

How many times had this girl served now? It was probably her fifth or sixth time, aiming her serve at the corner towards the same clumsy player. Each time the ball was sent over to Karasuno's side, the resounding hit became a sound of another failure—another point lost and another regret to be frustrated about.

Struck down by another serve, the girl hurtled back against the hardwood floor. Her face was twisted into an anguished look of guilt, her eyes watering and on the verge of tears. Her gaze lingered, and her eyes tracked the ball as it escaped her line of sight out of the court. At that moment, Megumi could only imagine what was racing through her mind, fuelled even more intensely by the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

' _It's all my fault_.  _We're losing because of my failures_.'

The raw emotion the match had brought out in the girl forced Megumi to avert her eyes, to keep her gaze steady and turned away. It wasn't as if Megumi really knew the girl but watching someone in such a vulnerable state was enough to cause anyone's stomach to churn. Without being on the courts herself, Megumi couldn't have ever experienced the same turmoil as the players on court.

The emptiness and disconnect just felt…  _wrong_. It felt wrong to watch someone lose without really feeling the weight of losing yourself.

Suzuki sat on the sidelines, not really looking away from the game—but not really focusing either. She rested her hand under her chin, a look of boredom marring her brow. There wasn't a single glistening of light against her body—no sweat coating the surface of her skin, she hadn't taken a single step into the court after all and it didn't seem as if it really mattered to her at all.

It probably didn't either. After all, joining the team had just been Suzuki's way of earning merit.

Soon the game ended and just as Megumi had predicted, Karasuno had lost—the set count: two to zero. Karasuno hadn't even won a single set and bowed out in their first match of the tournament, the disappointment they must've felt was probably overwhelming.

On one hand, Megumi was relieved. The less matches the teams played, the less work it meant for her. However, that perspective was shamefully self-centred. She despised the fact that the thought had even occurred to her at all. With her toes pressed lightly into the carpeted floor, Megumi pursed her lips and gazed briefly around the change rooms. Her eyes took in the expressions—the downcast shadows casted across their faces, the fixed tension knitted in their brows, and the clenched jaws behind their closed lips.

Their regret was still fresh, likely playing out their most shameful moments on court over and over again like a broken record in the back of their minds. Thoughts like 'if only I had trained more,' and 'if only I'd just done  _that_  in the game,' were written plainly on the faces of the players, and they didn't bother to hide their gloominess around people that probably felt the same way.

Only Megumi didn't feel the same way.

Sitting wordlessly among the downtrodden group of girls, Megumi felt uncomfortable and out of place. Had she the option to leave, she would've taken it without a second thought. However, the president had instructed her to interview each of the players after a game and it was those cursed instructions that chained Megumi to the depressing atmosphere in the change rooms.

It should've been easy to discard sympathy and empathy in favour of leaving the room as soon as possible—at one point she would've, but Megumi hesitated. She wasn't  _that_  selfish, and she refused to rub salt in their freshly cut wounds.

Sobbing quietly, the broken-spirited girl from earlier buried her tear-tracked face into the captain's shoulder. "T—They kept aiming their serves at me…" Her body heaved, shoulders jumping as she choked back her tears. "They got so many p—points off me… because I—"

The captain took the girl's face into her hands, her eyes soft and comforting. "We kept the ball in play though, that's just volleyball." The captain's hands dropped to the girl's shoulders, and she squeezed them in solace. "But they were better than us—that's why we lost. It's not your fault, or anyone else's."

The tears ran freely from the girl's eyes as she ducked her head, the droplets hanging off the edge of her chin and falling to the coarse carpet floor. The captain's hand left the girl's shoulder and she stood up, gazing down at the girl in sympathy. Everyone in the room was quiet, glancing at the girl on the ground with a mixture of their own sorrow and thinly-veiled pity.

Megumi averted her eyes, just as Suzuki brushed past her.

Suzuki seemed to be the only one other than Megumi whom was unaffected, clearing her throat and approaching the captain. "Michimiya-san…" She said lowly, "I believe that the teacher wishes to have a word with you."

Michimiya glanced up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. From where Megumi was sitting, the captain's skilfully concealed grief was easy to detect—and heartbreaking to realise. Although Megumi had only known Michimiya for a brief period of time, it wasn't hard to admire her hardworking nature and positivity.

But even an experienced captain wasn't immune to the sorrow of defeat, no matter how well she hid it.

The captain bit her trembling lower lip, taking a quick breath before answering with a surprisingly steady voice. "Yep." Giving the girl on the floor a quick glance, Michimiya said softly, "I'll see you later, alright?"

The words probably left Michimiya expended—nothing more than the need to leave, and so she did. Her face was turned away as she left, her pace speaking naught of her internal poignancy. The team simply watched as she left, both confused and worried with the same question evidently present in their minds— _why wasn't Michimiya as upset as the rest of them?_

But she was, or perhaps she wasn't—Megumi could only speculate the true impact of the loss. Despite her keen observations, a person's external disposition never accurately reflected their genuine thoughts and feelings. Although Megumi had deduced Michimiya  _had_  been doleful, it was mystery to what extent.

Perhaps she was just upset—maybe she was even more so. Michimiya had likely chosen to hide her sorrow, instead choosing to soothe the team's.

Megumi felt her heart squeeze at the irony of it all.

"Michimiya-san really admirable…" Megumi said quietly, the words leaving her lips before she even processed them.

"…Her diligence and commitment to training far exceeded the rest of us," Suzuki agreed, reaching down to casually tug off her unused knee pads. "It's quite hard to believe that she isn't the most frustrated."

Megumi simply bit her lip and continued tracing a misshaped circle on her knee. Her legs were tucked close, left hand tangled and lost in the loose ruffles of her skirt. Of course, Michimiya was frustrated—she  _cared_  after all. She wouldn't gone the extra mile to boost the morale to revitalise the spirits of the players if she didn't.

Megumi wasn't the only one to believe that either.

One of the third years, presumable a girl that was close friends with the captain lowered her gaze and shook her head. "No… she's our captain. She's just trying to stay composed—for our sake." The girl's voice got lower, softer. "She's waiting—waiting until she's out of sight, so she can finally… cry."

On some subconscious level, everyone had probably known. The sounds of uncomfortable shuffling and guilty silence filled the in-betweens. Neither Megumi or the third-year girl looked more at ease than the rest—despite conscious knowledge beforehand. Megumi felt her gaze drop—slowly falling and continuing to fall, until the faces had faded from view and her eyes were glued to her feet.

Though her vision unfocused, Megumi's ears were sharp and alert, catching the smallest of noncommittal grunts under Suzuki's breath. "Perhaps… however, she couldn't have expected anything more of us. We didn't really  _try_  after all."

One girl stood up—a first year with her brow furrowed cautiously. "W—What do you mean by that, Suzuki?"

Suzuki waved her off flippantly. "If Michimiya-san was truly determined for us to win, training for this tournament would have been more enforced—no?"

In that moment, Suzuki gave a caustic, offhanded remark. "But I suppose we'd end up skipping training either way,  _knowing us_."

Megumi was taken aback.

With her demeanour calm and casual, Suzuki turned away and shrugged on her jacket. Her expression was hidden under long tresses of black hair, free from the ponytail she had worn her hair in before. Megumi felt emotions of confusion and surprise catch in her throat, bubbling uncomfortably as she gazed at Suzuki. She was unsure—wary of the suddenly capricious and unreadable girl before her.

"…Are you trying to hint at something?" The first-year asked hesitantly.

Suzuki's grip tightened around the fabric of her duffel bag. Her voice—previously  _somewhat_ amiable, shifted quickly into a downright snarl. "I'm certain you  _all_  understand where I'm coming from."

The girls in the room collectively flinched, and Suzuki continued—her tone hostile and provoking. " _It's not your fault, or anyone else's_." She echoed the captain's words, turning towards the team once more. "Only the fault lies with  _everyone_. How can we be so arrogant as to believe our loss isn't because we refused to put in the effort to train?"

Gazing up at Suzuki and registering her aggressive speech in her mind, Megumi felt her shock catch in her throat—unable to react, unable to  _speak_.

She hadn't ever been  _this_ antagonistic before, regardless of her mannerisms towards Yuuki. The way Suzuki spoke—dismissive and provocative, was different. Like stormy clouds rolling into the skies of a clear, Summer day; the turbulence in Suzuki's usual kind albeit careless attitude was alarming. Although Megumi didn't really  _know_ Suzuki all that well, something was  _wrong_.

Even if it risked a confrontation she couldn't win, Megumi felt herself involuntarily plunge into those murky waters.

"Suzuki-san…" Megumi spoke up timidly, flinching as Suzuki's defiant gaze trained on her.

As Megumi stood up, the temperature in that inconspicuous change room rose—and the tension along with it. She was clueless on how to handle such a situation, and yet that rational thought hadn't prevented her from jumping headfirst into confronting Suzuki—despite the fact she  _supposedly_  hated confrontations.

Was it some kind of stupid sentiment—to get herself involved needlessly? Probably not, although Megumi wouldn't know how to answer it either way.

"Am I incorrect?" Suzuki asked challengingly, her regularly rigid and formal tone fluctuating in her words.

The attention of the girls in the room darted between Suzuki and Megumi, their eyes flickering in uncertainty. Megumi felt her mouth grow dry and she looked away. "I don't think you're wrong… but… I don't think you're right either."

Suzuki ran her fingers through her hair, the action looking somewhat nonchalant and disinterested. It only served to frighten Megumi even more, the anxiety prickling irritably under her skin. How could Suzuki be so calm and yet so aggravating? Meanwhile, Megumi was at her wits' end—prattling nervously to soothe her erratic nerves.

"I can't assume I know anything—because I don't, but… weren't you also skipping training, Suzuki-san?"

Suzuki's anger only seemed to flare at the statement, and Megumi mentally chided herself for adding fuel to the fire.

"If you don't know the circumstances,  _don't intervene_ —outsider." Suzuki said, removing her hand from her hair and glaring directly at Megumi, then at the rest of the team. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Glancing around the room, nobody said a word. Instead, heads were kept low and eyes were glued to carpet. Despite the anxiety that prickled—like tiny, hot needles piercing through her skin—Megumi stepped towards Suzuki once more and filled the torturous silence with much needed alleviation, a move to placate Suzuki's brewing rage.

"Getting angry won't solve anything, Suzuki-san…" Megumi frowned, reeling back slightly from Suzuki's harsh words. While Suzuki probably didn't mean anything by it—likely too caught up in her own emotions in the heat of the moment—it didn't make her jab any less hurtful. "Please, calm down."

"Be quiet!" Suzuki snapped, venom dripping like morning dew off green leaf. "Don't act so self-righteous when you know absolutely  _nothing_."

Her voice was loud, confronting—everything Megumi  _hated_  about speaking up. It wasn't a surprise Suzuki was fierce when enraged—hadn't she already shown that side of herself around Yuuki? Feeling the tears rush to her eyes, Megumi kept her gaze unflinching. Scanning her peripheral, no one appeared courageous enough to confront Suzuki in her crazed fury—only Megumi being foolish enough to attempt so.

Either way, Megumi had gotten herself into this mess and she was determined to resolve it.

"Calm down, Suzuki-san." Megumi repeated, forcing herself to be assertive—to appear objective and unemotional. Then she softened her voice, her empathy taking a hold of her. "I understand where you're coming from but… um… don't you think everyone feels the same way—to a certain degree?"

As Suzuki opened her mouth to cut in, Megumi continued. "Of course I may be acting a little presumptuous… but um… I think everyone has a few regrets. So please… settle down."

"You  _think_?" Suzuki inquired. Her eyes narrowed sharply, gaze fiery and fierce. "Shouldn't you just  _silence yourself_  when you're told?"

"Probably…" Megumi said, turning her head away. The temporary confidence—a faux adrenaline boost fuelled by an ambiguous motive—faded, leaving her anxious and unsure once again. "But I… I think taking out your anger on your teammates would only make things worse for yourself in the long run. So…"

Megumi gulped, locking eyes with Suzuki once again.

"I didn't really care what you thought of me."

With her teeth bared, Suzuki snapped her gaze away. Whether or not Megumi's pleads had gotten through to her was unclear, and Megumi simply stared—anticipating another round of the dispute, and fully expecting another insult to be thrown heedlessly.

One of the girls, a third year, finally stood up and placed a hand on Suzuki's shoulder. "…The bathroom is around the corner, Suzuki," she said sympathetically.

Wordlessly, Suzuki gave a final, furious growl and turned away—racing away without sparing a single glance at Megumi.

Megumi felt  _sick_ —her heart pumping vigorously in her chest, threatening to spill out of her throat in a bloody display. Like a second skin, her clothes clung to her body—the nervous sweat gluing the material to her like a clumsily made art project. While she had never intended to jump into an argument with Suzuki the way she did, Megumi couldn't discern if she'd somehow worsened the situation or improved it.

So she just stood, shocked at her own callous efforts to mend a troublesome situation she had nothing to do with in the first place.

Megumi didn't even realise the third year had approached her worriedly until a hand was wrapped comfortingly around her shoulder, gripping in way that told her she had somehow done something right.

Only she felt like she had done everything  _wrong_.

"Thank you, Miyamura," the third year told her, though her words floated through one ear and left through the other. "Even though I'm the vice-captain… I didn't know what to do in that kind of situation."

"Suzuki's always been childish." One of the second-years in the club piped up. "She throws tantrums whenever things don't go her way. It's kind of annoying, to be honest."

A tantrum? That wasn't a tantrum at all, Suzuki had legitimate criticisms—only she had expressed them unnecessarily aggressively. Despite that, the words caught in Megumi's throat and she was left stammering, unable to articulate her thoughts into a coherent sentence.

Megumi gave a stiff laugh, the sound feeling hollow and forced as it left her throat. "I—I don't think she really—"

"None of us really like Suzuki all that much." Another girl interrupted, and the boulder dropped once again in the chamber of Megumi's stomach. "But none of us really had the courage to say it to her face. Y'know, I thought you were a huge prude Miyamura, but I see you in a new light now!"

If Megumi felt like vomiting before—now, she felt like dissolving into  _ash_. The dread washed over her body, crashing into her like a waterfall into lake waters. Megumi felt numb—dizzy, as if someone had knocked her over the head with a baseball bat and she had somehow survived the head trauma.

No. They were wrong. Badmouthing Suzuki hadn't been her intentions at all.

Megumi's eyes were glued to her feet, the anxiety causing her hands to tremble uncontrollably beneath her sleeves. "T—That's not what I was trying to—"

"Come on, everyone." The vice-captain scolded, turning around to face the team. Her hand left Megumi's shoulder, coming to rest at her hip. "It's not good to badmouth your teammate like that. No matter what you think of Suzuki, you need to remember that team unity is important."

The girls chorused an affirmative reply before turning away to talk amongst themselves, the tension in the change room vanishing now that it was of no interest to them. The vice-captain regarded Megumi worriedly, and Megumi predicted her question before it even came.

"I'll be fine…" Megumi said shakily, forcing a weary smile. "I—I think I'll go find Suzuki-san and see if she's okay."

'… _and apologise_ '. Though the words were left unsaid, the third-year was perceptive—ascertaining Megumi's distress and gnawing  _guilt_  she felt from prying in matters that did not concern her.

The vice-captain gave her small shake of her head, placing both her hands soothingly on Megumi's shoulders. "You did the right thing Miyamura. There's nothing you need to apologise for."

"But still…" Came Megumi's automatic reply. Megumi briskly brushed off the girl's hands, turning to leave the room. "There's still some time before we need to leave, I'll get around to interviewing everyone later. I… need to cool off too."

The vice-captain said nothing as Megumi stepped away from her. Her face was steeped in concern, her brows creased deeply as she continued to gaze silently at Megumi. Had Megumi been in the right state of mind, the ephemeral stare would have provoked a feeling of self-consciousness—Megumi would have been wondered what she had done to deserve such a look.

Not now, however—Megumi was too distracted to notice.

More importantly, she needed to find Suzuki—to apologise, and to remedy her foolish errors. At the very least, Megumi held onto the slight hope Suzuki had understood her intentions no matter how inarticulately she expressed them.

* * *

 

The Sendai City Gymnasium boasted a total of four girls' bathrooms—all in different sectors of the gymnasium. When Suzuki was nowhere to be found in the D Block bathrooms, Megumi searched the C Block bathrooms on the other side of the gym. With no success in the C Block bathrooms, Megumi begrudgingly made her way over to the B Block bathrooms—then to the A Block bathrooms. It was easy enough, seeing as most matches hadn't finished yet and the hallways remained mostly empty—save for a few wandering stragglers.

Even then, Megumi came across the same discouraging site: dry ceramic sinks, void of any signs of usage and the presence of whom she was looking for.

In reality, it wasn't strange to consider Suzuki would be anywhere  _but_  the bathrooms—after all, that was the only place where she  _would_ be found had she stayed. Despite that, Megumi continued her persistent search—unable to shake off her anxiety and the pessimism that arose alongside it. Her concern was nibbling away at her conscience—her mind filling with bothersome thoughts, all revolving around the one Suzuki Kaede.

Lowering her hands from her face, water dripped from her lashes and the contours of her face into the sink and Megumi reached to shut off the running water. Her cheekbones felt frigid, undetectable dark circles pulsing with numbness beneath her eyes.

Somehow, reality hadn't occurred to her entirely until she placed the palms of her hands against the sides of the ceramic basin, excess water pooling around her fingertips and trickling towards the sink hole as they were meant to. It was completely accurate to claim Suzuki was simply an acquaintance—nothing more, nothing less. However, given how teammates looked down upon Suzuki—Megumi was very likely the closest thing Suzuki had to a friend.

Megumi had never seen Suzuki around anyone other than Yuuki during school—and Yuuki couldn't exactly be considered her friend, especially with how much they apparently loathed each other.

Despite knowing the volleyball team for far longer, Suzuki was in no way considered their comrade. Perhaps a teammate—but not somebody they proudly fought matches with.

Lifting her gaze from the stone countertop, the girl reflected in the mirror before Megumi frowned—her usually large, wide eyes crinkling. Though no visible bags or shadows lay beneath those eyes, Megumi felt their presence in the form of her tumultuous emotions—both mentally draining and physically exhausting to bear.

With a deep sigh, Megumi brushed the tip of her thumb against skin under her eyes—her wet fingers chilly to the touch. If Suzuki wasn't here, where would she be? The gymnasium was  _huge_  and searching for was nearly impossible if Suzuki was actively avoiding people.

It was probably easier to give up—no matter how conflicted she felt about it.

Fully intending to make her way back to the change rooms—to interview the girls' team and get her assigned tasks over and done with—Megumi paused. Blinking, Megumi rubbed her eyes for a brief moment as her feet stopped in the doorway of the bathroom. Although she had only spent a brief few minutes in the confines of the girls' bathroom, the previously stark hallways swarmed with people from various schools—as well as those whom officiated the matches. As distracted as Megumi had been, she had barely noticed the distinct difference in volume within the bathroom—only now feeling the familiar rush of discomfort that came with the crowd.

It was stupid—there wasn't even  _that_ many people and yet she still felt her muscles stiffen in her arms and legs, tenseness coiling like a snake around her stomach. Megumi  _really_ didn't need the added anxiety, especially piling on top of everything that had happened with Suzuki.

"Miyamura!" There was a loud call of her name from… somewhere. Glancing around the immediate proximity of the area, Megumi combed back her fringe before it fell back over the side of her face. "I've been looking for you for ages! Where were you?"

A hand came to tap her shoulder and Megumi gave a strange sound of surprise, spinning around to identify the hand.

"O—Oh… Nishinoya-kun. It's just you." Megumi felt her body relax at his touch, the recognition of his presence being enough to soothe her discomfort. Her eyes trailed behind him, realising after half a second that he wasn't alone. "Tanaka-san… you're here too."

"M—Miyamura!" With his eyes darting between Nishinoya and Megumi, Tanaka looked somewhat surprised—raising his brow in suspicion. "You were looking for her, Noya-san? Oi, don't tell me you want me to wing—"

"That's not it!" Nishinoya complained loudly, shoving Tanaka roughly as the latter wiggled his brows suggestively. "Damn it, I knew you would say that!"

Megumi blinked owlishly, rubbing her eyes confusedly when Nishinoya seemingly glowed red against the crowd behind him. Perhaps it was simply the residue water droplets hanging stubbornly on her lashes, obscuring her vision with a blur of bright colours. Regardless, Megumi tilted her head curiously—her brow furrowed in an inquisitive manner. "Nishinoya-kun… are you blushing?"

"No! Of course not!" Nishinoya denied quickly. He shook his head furiously and Megumi found herself snorting in amusement when she confirmed  _indeed_ —he was embarrassed, flustered for some unknown reason. Tanaka guffawed beside him, sharing a teasing glance with Megumi as he grinned with tears in his eyes. "Damn it, Ryuu!"

Stepping away from the bathroom door, Megumi shuffled aside to allow passage into the restrooms and regarded both Tanaka and Nishinoya with a slight upturn of her lips—distinctly different from her usual awkward smiles. She took the opportunity to breathe—to school her visage into something less conspicuous. Their lively chatter—soothing without their knowledge—worked wonders in more ways they could ever realise. Megumi felt the stress hidden beneath her deceitful complexion mellow, a genuinely calm expression taking its place instead.

All of worries just seemed insignificant—bothersome even—to bring up. At the very least, she could toss away her problems—if only for a few minutes.

"I actually came to give you this!" Nishinoya held out a familiar black device, a light sheen reflecting off the curve of the painted metal. For a few moments, Megumi stared blankly at the rectangular object enclosed in his hands—realisation only occurring to her after a few seconds of registering what the object  _actually_ was.

Megumi glanced up from his hand, staring at Nishinoya with panicked, wide eyes. "Oh my god… I completely forgot!" Taking the camera off his hands, she quickly flipped open the viewfinder—clicking through the silver-painted buttons in a frenzied hysteria. "I only had enough memory left for a single two-hour video! What if I didn't get the whole game? What if the memory card got damaged from overloading? Can that kind of thing even happen? I was so distracted I just—"

"Uh…" Nishinoya scratched the back of his head, glancing at Tanaka whom nudged him forward without hesitation. Nishinoya took the camera from her hands, effectively cutting off her nervous ramble. He started off bluntly. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Miyamura."

Tanaka gave him a disapproving look one Megumi didn't really take note of as she anxiously raked her fingers through her hair and pulled the ends harshly. "The camera has a storage system, you see. When you run out of space, it's not like you can continue storing things any more right? This is a really old camera and it might not be able to handle an overload of—"

Nishinoya cut her off. "I mean—I asked Chikara to look over it, so I'm sure it's fine! There's no need to be so scared over nothing!"

"Ah!" Tanaka gave a sound of apprehension, as if he'd suddenly registered something in his mind. "So that's what you two were doing… Noya-san! That's so manly of you!"

Megumi frowned, calming down ever-so-slightly. In way, he'd implied that her genuine concerns weren't worth her efforts—that her work wasn't worth her concern. Although she was likely just overthinking, she couldn't help feeling slightly put off over Nishinoya's poor choice of words. He probably hadn't meant it—instead just trying to reassure her like the considerate friend he'd always been.

Either way, it was a waste of time to get worked up over such a small issue—so instead, Megumi grasped the camera once again. Her fingers wrapped firmly around the device, unintentionally brushing against Nishinoya's as she took the video camera into her possession once more.

"Ah, sorry…" Megumi said, her frown deepening as Nishinoya pulled away hastily—almost as if her touch had scalded him. Regardless, she ignored the dull stab in her stomach and curled her fingers into her scalp, idly smoothing out the kinks in her hair with her fingers.

Tanaka—almost as if he sensed the sudden awkwardness, cleared his throat loudly. He subtly kicked Nishinoya in the back of the shin, trying to pass off the action inconspicuously. He probably thought the action would go unnoticed by Megumi—which it  _didn't_. "So Miyamura! How'd the girls go?"

"They lost." Megumi deadpanned, though the gnawing worry at the pit of her stomach begun to stir again. It was a reminder of what had happened—the internal conflict Megumi had involved herself with. Leaning back against the wall, Megumi hid her hands behind her back—crushing them between the wall and her body. The pain was a sort of relief to ease her nerves with different stimuli.

Nishinoya and Tanaka winced in sympathy for the girls' team, and Megumi wondered if she had been too blunt.

Shaking her head as if to clear away the pessimistic thoughts, Megumi gave a weary smile—swiftly changing the topic. "What about you two? Did you win?"

"Of course we did!" Nishinoya proclaimed, leaning forward with his chest puffed proudly. "I told you we would, didn't I?"

Nishinoya and Tanaka shared an exuberant cheer, turning to each other and pumping their fists enthusiastically. Their energetic celebration—winning their first match—was loud, attracting much more attention than Megumi would've liked. With her obvious association to them through her journalism uniform, Megumi nervously laughed alongside them—glancing around and sending silent apologies to the disrupted passers-by in the near proximity.

People stopped for fleeting moments, briefly staring at Tanaka and Nishinoya with a mixture of annoyance and irritation. Honestly, Megumi was perplexed—how could they be so carefree? She couldn't imagine putting herself in their shoes—where she purposely drew attention to herself and freely expressed how she felt without a care in the world.

Megumi was the complete opposite in every way.

"H Hey… I think you guys should probably quieten—"

Their obnoxious shouting cut her off and Megumi pursed her lips in exasperation, gazing at the two of them with half-lidded eyes. It wasn't as if she could just tell them to  _stop_. She didn't have very much of a presence—not like their captain at least, and while it wasn't out of reach to force her assertiveness, it was  _Nishinoya and Tanaka_ —the two loudest people she knew.

Sighing to herself, Megumi simply resigned herself to the unwanted, needless attention and waited for the two of them to cheer out the rest of their energy.

"Miyamura!" Nishinoya suddenly shouted and Megumi nearly jumped in surprise.

"Y—Yes?!" She yelped.

With his eyes gleaming resolutely, he stepped closer to her nearly buzzing with excitement. "You're gonna watch our game against Dateko, right!?"

"W—Well I…" Megumi's eyes flickered between the floor and Nishinoya's face, and she cursed the stutter that formed in her speech. She was at a loss for words—her mind still processing his words after being on the spot so unexpectantly.

Nishinoya didn't seem under any kind of stress, not did he look nervous about going up against Dateko again. Scanning the subtle creases in his face, the only emotion Megumi gathered from his expression was unadulterated delight at the simple notion that she would be watching the match. It wasn't as if she expected anything else from someone with as much bravado as Nishinoya, but…

Hadn't he been under the weight of pressure just a mere few hours ago?

After half a second, she nodded slowly—still reeling back in confoundment. "Um… I promised, d—didn't I?"

Grinning boyishly, Nishinoya leaned back and gazed at Megumi with ebullience shining brilliantly in his eyes. Beside him, Tanaka appeared just as animated as Nishinoya was—his grin crooked and eager; ready jump into action at that very moment. Had Megumi not known Tanaka beforehand, she would've mistook his fiery enthusiasm for a malicious aura—the sadistic desire to pummel Datekougyou into dust, although that misconception didn't seem  _entirely_ false either.

In any case, Nishinoya and Tanaka seemed fired up—completely ready to take on Datekougyou with no reservations.

"Actually, Noya-san and me were going to the store to get something for lunch!" Tanaka said, gesturing to the general direction of the gymnasium canteen down the hallway. "You wanna eat lunch with us, Miyamura?"

Megumi gave him a puzzled look, pushing herself off the wall now that the crowd had dispersed and thinned out. "Lunch? What about your game?"

Nishinoya and Tanaka glanced at each other, their eyes exchanging some kind of hidden message Megumi couldn't decipher. Had she said something strange?

"Uh… it  _is_  lunchtime, Miyamura." Nishinoya pointed out, and Megumi felt her cheeks warm at her display of stupidity. "The game's after lunch."

Well, that made sense.

She had been preoccupied after all, too concerned with finding Suzuki than to spend time thinking about anything else. Megumi hid her knuckles under her sleeves, then tucked her hands into her pockets. Now that she was conscious of it, Megumi felt hunger rumble uncomfortably within the depths of her stomach—a wave of fatigue pulsing in her muscles. Despite going unnoticed earlier, her legs felt weak—as if the energy had drained out of her body like a flood.

"O—Oh…" Combing her hair behind her ears, Megumi shook her head in reply glancing up at Tanaka whom seemed deep in thought for some reason. "I would like to… but I um…  _don't have any money_."

Somehow, it felt as if reality kept rubbing her destitution in her face.

Whether it was just the simple matter of lunch or purchasing the bare necessities at the lowest price possible—Megumi always found herself  _broke_ afterwards, with perhaps just enough money to purchase a single one-hundred-yen priced snack; although most times that was pretty unlikely too. Merely a week ago, Megumi had gone shopping with Nishinoya—completely expending her savings for at least another week or more. It was no surprise Megumi couldn't afford to buy her own lunch, especially with how  _expensive_ food at sporting venues tended to be.

Thinking about it, maybe she really  _shouldn't_  have quit her job…

"I brought my own food though! But uh… I think it's back in the  _D Block_ …" Megumi continued weakly, feeling her embarrassment burn brightly in the tips of her ears and dignity crushed mercilessly into ashes at her feet.

Although Megumi certainly wasn't  _poor_ , she certainly wasn't as well off as the average joe.

Resting thumb under his chin and the side of his index finger against it, Tanaka grinned as if she had replied  _exactly_ the way he wanted her too. "That's fine! No problem!" He claimed, then looked over to Nishinoya with a wide, creepy-looking grin. "How about you go with Noya-san to get your lunch? I'll wait over at the canteen!"

In vivid detail, Megumi could almost recall the very instant her eyes narrowed in thinly-veiled suspicion.

"E—Eh? Why?" Blinking, Megumi's face was painted in a layer of scepticism and her eyes became half-lidded in wariness. It was almost as if Tanaka was  _plotting_ some kind of trap, his eyes conspicuously shining in joyous mirth. "The D Block is  _really_ far from here; wouldn't it just be easier if I went back by myself?"

Tanaka's reply was almost instant. "That wouldn't be manly of us at all!" He said seriously.

"You mean manly of  _Nishinoya-kun_." Megumi pointed out dryly, shaking her head as Nishinoya appeared strangely quiet in her peripheral. It was almost effortless to poke holes into Tanaka's incomprehensible reasoning, and it was even easier to discern that he was simply hiding his true intentions under the guise of 'manliness'.

Perhaps those intentions were playing matchmaker? But…

Nishinoya liked Shimizu, didn't he?

Despite the obvious flaw in Tanaka's logic, it appeared as if he wasn't quite ready to give up the farce just yet. Waving her off, Tanaka replied readily. "Yep. It's only natural he'd want to walk you there, y'know? Noya-san is manliness itself!"

What. Why was Tanaka so adamant about Nishinoya walking her anyway? Megumi was beginning to suspect he  _was_  playing matchmaker, despite the obvious reason why he  _couldn't_  be.

"Um… really, I can go back alo—"

"…It's fine, Miyamura." Nishinoya finally said, frowning as he broke his uncharacteristic silence. Raising his head slightly, Nishinoya glanced over and gave Tanaka an unreadable expression—although Megumi was fairly certain it was one that screamed 'murder' in bold, red letters. "I'll walk you there."

Judging from the way Nishinoya's throat bobbed subtly, as if he was refraining from speaking a few  _choice words_ out loud, Megumi suspected he really  _wasn't_  fine with it—and simply accepted Tanaka's proposition because it would appear rude  _not to_. Truthfully, Megumi wasn't too fussed about being accompanied to the D Block—she wasn't a child after all, and she was more than satisfied to head back alone.

Having Nishinoya walk her there just seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

"…Are you sure?" Megumi said cautiously, inspecting his face for any signs of annoyance or dismay. When she found none, Megumi propped her hand against the plaster wall and positioned her body back into a comfortable posture, leaning away from Nishinoya. "I mean… I'm sure you're exhausted from your game, and I'm honestly okay with heading back alone Nishinoya-kun."

"Yeah! I'm sure, Miyamura." Nishinoya replied easily, his grin wide and nonchalant.

Megumi simply replied with an unconvinced raise of her brow.

Before she could interject with another reassurance that he  _didn't_ need to escort her, Nishinoya had already turned away and begun walking. He gave a brief glance at an overhead sign—one that directed he go left—and paused to look over his shoulder. "Seriously, it's fine!" He insisted, gesturing her to follow him. "Come on, let's go!"

He'd left her no room to argue, and Megumi felt her muscles slacken in her arms. It wasn't as if she could continue resisting, and no matter how guilty she felt about burdening Nishinoya—he refused to give up in the end, despite being forced into Tanaka's proposal against his will.

It honestly made her feel bad—as if she was depending on Nishinoya too much, and he was too considerate of her feelings to voice out whether or not it bothered him.

Megumi simply pursed her lips, gazing beside herself at Tanaka whom appeared suspiciously content with being left behind. By then, Megumi had given up. Pressing either Nishinoya or Tanaka yielded no results—and honestly, she was too tired to think deeply about Tanaka's weird behaviour without getting frustrated.

Gliding her hand down the plaster wall, Megumi felt her fingertips catch on each individual bump—her nails raking uncomfortable against the rough texture. Soon enough, Tanaka gave her a short—somewhat smug farewell and left to make his way to the canteen in the opposite direction of the D Block. With a short sigh, Megumi pressed her hands to her face—rubbing away the creases in her brow before she turned to trail after Nishinoya.

* * *

 

The walk to the D Block was mostly quiet—filled with a comfortable sort of silence where no words needed to be said. Although Nishinoya and Tanaka had effectively taken her mind off Suzuki, Megumi found her thoughts wandering further and further back down into the rabbit hole. With Nishinoya and Megumi's footsteps reverberating off the wooden walls of the desolate hallways, she was given time to reflect—to renew her anxiety she'd only been briefly relieved from.

By then, Megumi was almost certain Suzuki had calmed down. The time was five past one, only ten minutes into the lunch break—according her phone at least, and it was unlikely Suzuki hadn't calmed down somewhat in a thirty-minute period.

Yet despite that logical reasoning, Megumi was still worried.

It was clear no one on Suzuki's team cared enough to go after her. Why would they? To them, Suzuki was just a childish, sore loser whom couldn't accept defeat. While Megumi didn't think that sentiment was exactly  _wrong_ , the lines were still blurred—and there were no clear black and white sides.

In any case, Megumi didn't really know what to think of the whole situation. The only thing she  _did_  understand was that nobody— _nobody_ in Suzuki's place could possibly feel anything but a crippling, isolated moment of weakness. Even if Suzuki's opinion had been wrong, she didn't deserve to be left  _alone_ —to feel as if she was simply a lonesome existence.

Megumi, of all people, understood how loneliness chipped into a heart permanently.

"Hey Miyamura…"

Nishinoya's voice rang out in the empty hallway, and Megumi looked up from her feet. From where she stood, Megumi was only able to see half of his face, but even then—concern, uncertainty, contemplation; emotions seen so rarely on Nishinoya were present in the conflicting expression on his visage. His lips were pursed as he redirected his gaze—towards Megumi with indecipherable thoughts.

She was briefly taken aback, wondering if she'd been too caught up in her own thoughts to realise that something was had been  _bothering_  him.

"Y'know, I'm kind of nervous to go up against Dateko," he said honestly, a frown marring his usually jubilant expression. "They beat the crap out of us last time, and Asahi-san's been worrying so much about it."

Inhaling a breath of air, Megumi gazed at him thoughtfully—her lips pressed into a thin line, waiting for him to continue. He had trusted her enough to confide in her— _again_ , and Megumi couldn't help but feel inadequate once more. Just like the first time he'd displayed his full faith in her—in that isolated locker bay full of despairing sorrow and sombre heartache—Megumi found herself giving him her full attention, despite her uncertainty that she could even  _shoulder_ any of his burdens.

"Azumane-san?" She asked slowly, cautiously lest she say something wrong.

Nishinoya nodded and ran a hand through his hair, combing back the blonde strands of hair hanging over his forehead before he regarded her with a clouded look in his gaze. "Yeah, he might freak out before the match against Dateko. I dunno what to say to him, and I think I messed up before."

Propping himself against the wall, Nishinoya lowered his gaze to his feet—face blank and deep in thought. He was worried—about Azumane, about Dateko, and about the team. It sounded ignorant, even in her own mind, but Megumi had constantly been supported and pushed forward along her own path by Nishinoya; only now was she realising that even someone as admirable as Nishinoya was just as flawed as she was.

He was considerate—too considerate—of the feelings of the people around him, and he was always motivating others with his pure vitality and energetic spirit. Megumi had grown selfishly used to depending on him, and she had forgotten to consider that even Nishinoya had problems of his own. He was impulsive—yes, but that didn't completely define who he was. He still contemplated the effects of his actions, albeit much later than someone usually would.

Resting her hand on his shoulder and lightly squeezing in comfort, Nishinoya's eyes flickered towards her—surprised she had initiated some kind of physical touch for once. "You mean with what you said earlier?" Megumi asked softly.

"Well… Y—Yeah,  _that_. I guess…" Nishinoya mumbled lowly, his body suddenly growing stiff under her touch.

Frowning, Megumi removed her hand—running it through her side swept fringe in thought. "I don't think you said anything wrong back there. Maybe you were a little blunt though, I think you could've phrased your words a little better."

"Yeah… you're right, Miyamura." Nishinoya chuckled, his body slackening in a way that told her that he agreed with her observation. His eyes flared however, his characteristic bravado burning through his words quickly. "I wanna fire Asahi-san up though! How can we win if he's still so depressed from the last time we lost?"

Well, if Azumane thought how Megumi did—which seemed pretty reasonable considering what she had heard about him thus far—he was probably still stricken with uncertainty, unsure, and lacking any kind of confidence of victory. Putting herself in his shoes, Megumi thought deeply—biting her lip and resting her back against the wooden panels of the wall beside Nishinoya. When she was anxious, how did she usually free herself from the chains of her pessimistic thinking?

Well… it was inconvenient—a little pandering, but…

"Azumane-san is probably a completely different person from me," Megumi said, her eyes lowering to the dust particles flecked across the red and white patterns in the grey stone floor. "So um… I can't really tell what he's thinking."

Megumi continued, her empathy for Azumane's anxiety speaking for her. "Ah… I'm the ace. Everyone depends on me. If I mess up,  _everyone messes up_. If I don't perform well, we'll just lose again."

Nishinoya's brow furrowed. "That's—"

"I'm being presumptuous—I know. There's no guarantee that  _this_  is how he's feeling but… I think this is how I would probably feel if I was in Azumane-san's position," Megumi said, honesty shining wholeheartedly through her words.

Nishinoya glanced down, his hands raising from his sides before his eyes. His palms—so much smaller than Azumane's—held so much of the hope and determination that Azumane lacked. Megumi stared down at his hands, bruises blossoming along the side of his wrists—near his thumbs—and extending in patches up to his elbows. These hands were what raised the team up, and what Megumi believed was the only thing that could raise Azumane  _up_.

So Megumi spoke once more, her own hands twitching by her sides to take his in her own. "I really don't know what to tell you, Nishinoya-kun. You've always been there,  _supporting_ both Azumane and the rest of the team."

_And myself._

Those words were left unsaid and lost in the recesses of her mind; however, the silent words were still loud—and their presence still strong in her heart.

Giving him a gentle smile, Megumi faced Nishinoya with the truth laced beautifully within her words. "I don't think any of that needs to be changed, just expressed."

Nishinoya was silent, processing her words with a softer look in his eyes. For a brief moment, those desolate, empty hallways became even more—so simply because the corners of Nishinoya's lips lifted, conveying so much gratitude that even words couldn't convey his emotions. His slanted eyes usually sharp and bold—grew soft, and Nishinoya gazed at Megumi as if she had finally given him the answer he was looking for.

Megumi didn't know how to discern any of the soft emotions in the atmosphere, all she knew was that her heart caught in her throat and she began to feel nervous for reasons unknown to her.

"Miyamura… I… Thanks." Nishinoya grinned, pushing himself off the wall and pulling his jacket closer to his body. "You always know what to say whenever I'm bothered about something… you're pretty awesome!"

"It's the least I can do, I—I think."

Nishinoya laughed, a boisterous laugh full of his usual boyish vibrancy—reminiscent of his usual self. "Give yourself more credit, Miyamura!" He insisted, standing in a way that asserted his confidence and willingness to inspire that same confidence in Megumi. "Now I know I can play my best for you!"

For… her? No… He'd probably just phrased that the wrong way.

Megumi shook her head and pressed her weight into her legs, pushing herself off the wall. Nishinoya began walking before her, taking energetic strides towards the D Block and looking back to ensure she was following him.

And she was. With her own steadily paced steps, Megumi walked beside him and glanced down at her feet with a familiar warmness buzzing in her heart. It always seemed like Nishinoya could brighten her mood, no matter what he did, didn't he?

"Miyamura… You kind of looked down before," Nishinoya said, the abrupt observation startling Megumi out of her comfortable silence.

Before…? What had she—

Oh right, Suzuki.

Nishinoya shifted his gaze away from her and looked towards the glass doors towering on his left side. The C Block courts were getting wiped down within for the games that would take place after the lunch break, and Nishinoya stared, focusing his attention away from Megumi as she too glanced away from him in discomfort.

He'd noticed? Well… Of course he did, he was always more perceptive than she really gave him credit for after all.

"I mean—you remember what I told you before right? I'll be there for you for anything!" Nishinoya's voice was muffled beside her, projecting away from where she walked beside him. His tone still reverberated amongst the lonesome hallways, slightly wavering as he echoed the heartfelt words he'd shared with her from  _that day_.

"I…" Megumi felt conflicted. On one hand, it wasn't her problem to divulge. Her feelings were insignificant compared to Suzuki's, and her heart trembled at the thought of seeking unnecessary consolation when she didn't need it.

Suzuki didn't have  _anyone_. Megumi had Nishinoya. She couldn't take advantage of his friendship with him, especially since there was somebody that deserved his concern more than she did.

"…I'm fine. It's not really my problem to begin with anyway…" Megumi frowned, looking back at Nishinoya whom had turned his gaze towards the path in front of them. His brow was furrowed, thinking deeply about her words as she spoke them. "I… I'll deal with it… so please, don't worry about me Nishinoya-kun."

"Miyamura…" Nishinoya breathed, leaning closer towards her as he continued to press her. "Seriously, you can trust me!"

Megumi shook her head, her wavy hair spinning around in a halo around her head. "It's not that I don't trust you. Really, it's not me that's dealing with the brunt of issue anyway."

"But it's still bothering you." Nishinoya pointed out, frustration beginning to emerge in faint growls between his words. "Miyamura, it's not good to keep everything to yourself, y'know?"

"Nishinoya-kun, it's none of my business—and  _none of yours either_." Her voice was stern and unnecessarily harsh as exasperation seeped into her usually rational tone. Indistinctly, in the back of her mind, she recognised she was being too needlessly abrasive in response to Nishinoya's concern—but she didn't respond well to be pressed and the moment she lashed out, Megumi felt the cold hand of regret slap her in the face.

And yet Nishinoya didn't seem too offended, only reeling back with an annoyed frown on his face. Despite his relatively minor reaction, she felt even  _worse_ —Nishinoya was someone that acted on instinct, and such a passive reaction was simply  _out of character_.

He shifted his gaze to the ground, looking back up at Megumi, then back down to the ground. Nishinoya's faze was screwed up, eyes narrowed in frustration and confusion.

She expected him retaliate, but he didn't.

After a short moment, Nishinoya nodded slowly—his expression remaining unconvinced, concern still stitched firmly into his brow. Megumi noticed it—his hesitation to push her any further, lest she get defensive once more. "…Alright."

She apologised immediately, bowing her head low. "I'm sorry! I just—I didn't mean to snap… I appreciate your concern though, but I'm okay— _really_!"

Nishinoya gave her his regular grin, albeit something was different; his positive energy was still there, the confidant aura he exuded was still there, and yet…

…It just seemed duller, somehow.

"Come on Miyamura!" He said, turning his face away as any kind of discernible expression vanished from his face. "Ryuu's waiting for us!"

Watching him increase his pace and race ahead before her, Megumi couldn't help the feeling of despair that bloomed under the neutral mask she had forced over her face. No matter what she had convinced herself of, she  _didn't_  trust Nishinoya—at least not enough to confide in him like how he confided in her. Her steps sounded shallow beside his, as if they were simply a foolish imitation of friendship—of real  _trust_.

Megumi… had really messed up, hadn't she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year~! Hopefully 2019 will be an amazing year, and this long chapter is satisfying to read!


	6. Circling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karasuno ends off the first day of the Interhigh with a win against Dateko. The things that lead up to it and the things that come after however, circles back to everything that's happened so far.

_You remember what I told you before right? I'll be there for you for anything!_

Nishinoya's scrupulous stare was possibly one of the most unnerving experiences Megumi could ever recall in her life.

While it wasn't done with any deliberate intentions to intimidate her, she felt like a cell under a microscope regardless—something to be scrutinised and observed closely. His brow was scrunched ever-so-slightly, the skin at the bridge of his nose creasing almost indiscernibly. Nishinoya was still concerned, despite her best efforts to appease him. Obviously, Megumi wasn't the most skilled liar, nor the most talented actress. She had messed up, and clearly, she hadn't trusted him enough like a real  _friend_  should.

She knew her faults well, but even so... Suzuki… was the one that deserved sympathy.

Lowering her gaze to her lap, Megumi averted her eyes from the boy before her—instead directing her attention on the water rippling gently in her cup. There was an extreme hyperawareness of herself, her surroundings, and every subtle twitch in her body; Megumi was acutely conscious of her every action she took—knowing it was done under Nishinoya's watchful eye.

Megumi's thoughts had been scattered and bleary throughout the lunch break, but a single thought had occurred to her often: perhaps she was simply just paranoid?

Well, maybe—but maybe not.

Nishinoya snapped his gaze away—for the fifth or sixth time that hour—and replied inaudibly to Tanaka's eager question. Megumi hadn't really been paying attention to their conversation—the topic hadn't really interested her. Initially, Nishinoya and Tanaka spoke of their most recent match against Tokonami, and then the topic had drifted to something Hinata had apparently done in club activities to infuriate Kageyama. Eventually, Megumi had simply tuned out, her mind wandering to more contemplative thoughts.

Well, it wasn't as if she had been wrong but… she had clearly angered Nishinoya, hadn't she?

She hadn't intended to, but she probably had.

Hmm, so she…

"…And there's that whole thing with that guy from your class, yeah Noya-san?" Tanaka pointed out, referring to something Nishinoya had said earlier. "You're friends with him, right Miyamura?"

"F—Friends?" Megumi blinked, trying to recall  _anyone_  Tanaka might have perceived as her friend—other than Nishinoya. "Sorry… um… I wasn't listening."

It was the first time she'd spoken up in that hour and in the left of her peripheral, Nishinoya tensed up—a reflexive action so subtle that Megumi barely caught it. He had confirmed it himself. The air of awkwardness between them hadn't simply been a figment of her imagination, and Megumi almost visibly deflated in her seat.

Of course, what did she expect?

Tanaka suddenly scowled and although clearly not directed at Megumi, she still bristled from the abrupt switch to his threatening persona. Needless to say, Megumi hadn't been a witness to Tanaka's hostility ever since the first time she'd met him back in March.

"Amakawa." Tanaka clarified, plainly expressing a not-so-favourable opinion of Yuuki. Leaning forward—almost as if to bare his teeth in distaste for the boy in question, Tanaka continued. "That guy's bad news, Miyamura. Tell us if he hurts you and we'll beat him up for you!"

How chivalrous—though it was slightly ironic that it was  _Tanaka_ of all people warning her of Yuuki's apparent unpleasantness.

Nishinoya nodded vehemently at Tanaka's declaration, regarding her carefully with his brows furrowed. Although he said nothing, Megumi had expected him to declare something just as ridiculous—somewhat surprised when he instead agreed earnestly. In contrast to his regular light-hearted attitude, it was almost as if Nishinoya was  _serious_ about carrying out Tanaka's empty threat.

She was probably just imagining it though.

For now, she was curious why  _Yuuki_  was supposedly scum.

"Why do you say that, Tanaka-san?" Megumi asked sceptically. "I don't think he's a bad person."

Although her interactions with Yuuki had been far and few in between, he hadn't truly seemed like terrible person—perhaps a bit unapproachable, but nothing like what Tanaka appeared to be implicating him as. More than likely, it was probably some kind of farfetched rumour Tanaka would be relaying to her—and she wasn't willing to readily believe such unreliable sources.

"He just doesn't treat girls right." Tanaka claimed, surprising Megumi with his simple logic. Perhaps he possessed more integrity than Megumi ever gave him credit for. "A real man would never treat someone as lovely as Suzuki-san so badly! Suzuki-san deserves to be treated like the beauty she is!"

Tanaka's nostrils flared dramatically, and Nishinoya jumped immediately at the chance to fuel his friend's ego.

"You understand manliness more than anyone else I know, Ryuu." Nishinoya agreed firmly, clasping a tight hand over Tanaka's shoulder.

By that point, Megumi's mouth went dry in exasperation as she sensed the oncoming exchange of what she had dubbed—their loud, attention-grabbing 'appreciation' of each other. Regardless, Tanaka wasn't exactly wrong with his judgement of Yuuki—but Yuuki and Suzuki clearly shared some kind of history with each other. Without any context, it wasn't fair to claim either of them was more wrong than the other.

She said nothing though, and as usual, kept her thoughts to herself.

"It's almost the end of the lunch break, isn't it?" Megumi interrupted, cutting into their obnoxious antics. The digital clock on her phone read one o'clock, despite her perception of time arguing it had felt both much  _longer_  and much  _shorter_  than a thirty-minute interval of time. The passers-by had thinned out their numbers, less and less people rushing to get to their desired destinations. "Does the match start soon?"

"Yeah," Nishinoya said, pulling his phone from his pocket for confirmation. Their eyes met briefly before he sharply looked away, a blatant reminder of the fact that no—her earlier harshness hadn't been forgotten, striking guilt into her heart once more.

Around Tanaka, he was fine. Megumi was  _obviously_ the problem.

Tanaka's eyes darted suspiciously between them, and Megumi wondered if the tension was so heavily tacit that even Tanaka could sense the discord between Nishinoya and herself. He swiftly cleared his throat, bringing his hand down onto the table with a resounding _thump_ —and an unnecessary amount of force.

"Warmups start at one-ten," Tanaka recalled, gathering up the waste left over from his lunch and tossing the scraps in a nearby bin. He waved Nishinoya over, gesturing him to follow after Tanaka. "Coach Ukai'll prolly yell at us for being late for warmups. Come on, Noya-san."

"Alright…" Nishinoya said after a moment's hesitation, lifting himself off his seat. His hand lingered in place above his chair and he looked unreasonably solemn, as if he was caught between giving her a farewell or simply just leaving without saying a word.

The silence was… awkward, to say the least. Focusing her gaze down towards the curled hands in her lap, Megumi grimaced to herself and restlessness welled up in her chest once more. This apprehensive atmosphere, where both were uneasy and unsure—too wary of each other to say anything…

…It was needless.

"Shouldn't you look more excited to be going up against Datekougyou?" Megumi asked suddenly, frowning slightly as she placed both hands on the table in front of her.

The question was blunt and straight to the point. Megumi silently lamented her presumptuous declaration as soon as she had spoken it, cringing all the while. Although her actions were brash, the simple question alleviated some of the heaviness in the atmosphere and Nishinoya blinked, somewhat taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. In some ways, perhaps her impertinence had broken the ice.

Tanaka, on the other hand, grinned at Nishinoya's reaction from where he stood a few metres away—for some unknown reason.

Nishinoya placed his hand around the back of his neck, staring at Megumi blankly. "H—Huh? Y—Yeah… I guess so…"

Nishinoya frowned, pausing before he continued.

"You sure you don't want us to stay?" Nishinoya asked, his hand lingering over the back of his chair. It became apparent to Megumi that the expression on his face was  _worry_ and not anger, likely because she'd been uncharacteristically low-spirited during the entirety of the lunch break. "A Block isn't far, y'know?"

Figures. Of course Nishinoya would put aside his own feelings for hers.

"I'm sure your energy will be needed on court…" Megumi claimed, then giving him a hesitant smile and encouraging nod. "So, um… g—good luck then. Go and win."

While the brief exchange certainly hadn't repaired any of the tension between them, Nishinoya appeared to relax ever-so-slightly—his shoulders falling as he glanced over to Tanaka whom had already begun to make his way to A Block courts without Nishinoya. If anything, Megumi would've felt even  _guiltier_ had her actions cost Karasuno the game.

Concerning Nishinoya with her meddlesome dramas—it was distraction he didn't need.

"…Alright," he said, finally conceding to leave. Nishinoya raised his line of sight—just high enough to meet her gaze—and regarded Megumi with a firm smile. "You coming to watch?"

"Maybe a little later." Megumi replied, her eyes flickering down towards the camera resting beside her feet. With the soft lustre of the black paint reflecting light into her eyes, she quickly looked away and back at Nishinoya. "The actual game doesn't start until half-past right? My camera's still charging so…"

Megumi trailed off, tilting her head in thought. The excuse seemed reasonable enough, despite the fact that she was planning to watch the Datekougyou match with  _her own eyes_  and  _not_ with the camera in her face.

Leaning down to pick up the camera, the cable attached to the charging port jostled with motion—tugging lightly at the power point on the wall. A tinted number on the screen displayed sixteen percent—and while it could probably survive the rest of the day without use, Megumi had time. She bowed slightly in apology, and Nishinoya nodded in understanding.

Truthfully, it was a lie to give herself more time to think, and to get away from the awkwardness of the whole situation.

"That kinda sucks." He complained but grinned enthusiastically nonetheless, turning his back to her and departing to catch up with Tanaka. "I'll see you later then, Miyamura!"

Nishinoya's call was shortly followed by Tanaka's holler over the crowd, the shout indecipherable as the noise fizzled out with distance. Megumi was alone once more and to take her mind off the horde of hungry players in the canteen, she rested her elbows on the table before her and clicked through the contents of the video camera.

The match was recorded from a single, high-angle up in the stands, held above the railings with a tripod she had set up there. Megumi had a bird's eye view of the entire hour of the match, a perfect video that captured exactly everything it had needed to.

Yet despite that, it just didn't look very interesting.

Megumi had  _watched_  Karasuno play against Nekoma. She remembered how simply watching their plays had taken her breath away, and with each resounding hit of a spike against a palm—she remembered the adrenaline rush that coursed through her blood. The video she had recorded in perfect resolution—with the same team and the same energy—just felt dull to watch.

Maybe the passion she had felt was a one-time thing. Somehow, that was disappointing to admit.

Leaning back into her seat, Megumi skimmed through the rest of the video and watched brief seconds after every few skips. Her eyes were half-lidded, ignoring the bustling crowd of the canteen around her as she focused on the footage before her.

As her finger hovered over the silver-painted button to skip, a cheer of celebration rang out from the camera speakers—immediately cut off with a sharp, familiar voice.

" _DAMN IT!"_

Megumi paused, then watched the video for a few more seconds.

" _I'll definitely save the next one!"_

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Megumi clicked out of the recording and glanced at the shaded numbers on the top right corner of the screen. Twenty-four percent. While the camera battery wasn't as charged as she'd hoped, her thinly-veiled lie had been strung along far enough—it was time to go.

As the two grey digits shifted to read  _twenty-five percent_ , Megumi shut off the camera and pulled out the cable from the charging port—then retrieving the cable and the plug from the power point. Her phone read one-o-five—only a few minutes having passed since Nishinoya and Tanaka had departed for their game.

Warm-ups… should start shortly, at least according to Tanaka.

Packing away the rest of her equipment, Megumi stood up from her seat and began to make her way towards the A-block where Karasuno's game against Datekougyou was taking place. Behind her, a group of boys had already begun to occupy the place where Megumi previously sat—bantering noisily amongst themselves as they crowded around the table.

Their jerseys and jackets read Aoba-Johsai, and Megumi wondered if Karasuno would go up against them any time soon.

* * *

 

When Megumi began to approach the courts, the sound of shoes squeaking against polished hardwood flooring and faint team chants grew louder—more recognisable. Datekougyou's earworm of a chant was the most distinct of all, and Megumi found herself mumbling the chant under her breath as she neared the A-block.

As a student of Karasuno, it probably some kind of disservice to the team she was  _actually_ supporting.

Either way, her senses grew more acutely aware of increasing sounds and scents. There was the strong smell of salonpas mixed with the reeking odour of sweat, intensifying with each padding echo of her feet against the hallway floors. The air grew thicker—more humid, as if the bodily heat of the players on court was ventilated out of the main courts and into the hallways.

Megumi breathed out a sigh into the stale air, fanning air into her jacket as she continued to tread through the hallways. It was one-ten, and the hallways appeared significantly less populated than they had been earlier in the day. Most teams that had lost the first round had emptied out of the changerooms, leaving most areas desolate and vacant of players.

Turning the corner, Megumi gazed blankly out into a scenic view of a garden stretched beyond a large, glass window. She couldn't help her eyes wandering towards the brilliant, lush greenery—blinking in surprise when she recognised the boy that sat alone on a bench, facing the window with his head lowered in thought.

Azumane looked somewhat contemplative as he sketched something mindlessly on the surface of the bench beside him. The scene before her felt private, and he exuded an aura of solitude—clearly desiring to be left alone and undisturbed as he drowned in his thoughts.

Oh well. She'd just take the longer route to the A-Block.

While Megumi had fully intended to give him that time alone, she pivoted on her heel and her shoes squeaked noisily against the vinyl floor. Azumane's attention diverted towards her—slightly startled—and Megumi stared back at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"M—Miyamura, was it?" He asked, raising himself off the bench to look at her. "You're Nishinoya's friend, right?"

After a moment's hesitation, Megumi raised her head and took an uncertain step towards him nodding slowly. "…I guess so, yes. Um… I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"No, it's fine." Azumane shook his head and scratched his cheek sheepishly. As large and as intimidating as his physique made him out to be, he was contrarily soft-spoken and well-mannered. While Megumi had expected that kind of personality from Azumane—at least from everything she'd heard about him—the contrast between personality and physicality was still strange. Not exactly unexpected, but still  _disconcerting_. "I wasn't doing anything anyway—just lost in thought." He reassured with a small smile.

Azumane was… surprisingly polite.

He was a lot like her, in some ways—and the comparisons of his awkwardness and meekness to her own helped her usual anxiousness mellow. Megumi felt the tautness in her shoulders ease away and she gazed up, regarding her upperclassman as respectfully as she could.

"I think that Tanaka-san said warm-ups were supposed to begin at one-ten." Megumi recalled, tucking her fingers under her chin. "…Did I get the time wrong or…?"

"Ahh, you're right," Azumane said, thanking her with a brief nod. "Thanks for reminding me, Miyamura."

'Oh… that's alright, I guess." Megumi combed a stray hair behind her ear before casually adding, "good luck against Datekougyou!"

Somehow, simply mentioning Datekougyou to him triggered some sort of instinctive reaction to flinch and Azumane's shoulders hunched over—much like how Megumi had initially seen him at the beginning of the day. In a split-second, the conflicted expression on his face reflected and confirmed everything Nishinoya had been worried about—Azumane's anxiety, his worries, and his lack of confidence for any sort of victory.

Almost immediately, Megumi back-pedalled.

"Ah! Um… w—what I meant was: 'I'm sure everyone will win!', so…"

"No…" Azumane shook his head and gave a weary smile. "You didn't say anything wrong. Not being able to shut out our loss… that's my problem."

Swallowing, the insides of her mouth felt dry after she had spoken bland, idealistic encouragement that simply sounded unnatural and forced—grating to her ears. 'I'm sure everyone will win!'…? How saccharine could she get? Motivating others had never been Megumi's strong suit; relaying the words that others wanted to hear was difficult—especially considering how Megumi had no friends for the first sixteen years of her life.

Megumi stared apprehensively at Azumane's looming figure—not knowing what to say or what to do. She wasn't knowledgeable enough nor compassionate enough to spout something encouraging or uplifting—no, Megumi only had a few vague anecdotes to piece everything together without making any reckless assumptions. What had really happened for Azumane to become  _this_ hopeless?

She knew Datekougyo had somehow  _targeted_ Azumane. He gave up (on the game? On the sport?) and blamed himself entirely for the loss. That in turn, angered Nishinoya to the point of frustratedly leaving the club temporarily due to his suspension.

Her understanding of everything was filled with holes—gaps that she couldn't fill without overstepping her boundaries. She… had no idea of how to help him…

" _You always know what to say whenever I'm bothered about something."_

If that was true… then—

"I… might be intruding in something that doesn't concern me…" Megumi said carefully, observing Azumane closely for any signs of obvious discomfort. "Can I ask if you're scared, Azumane-san?"

There was a small sound of a sharp exhale, but Azumane made no moves to deny her accusation.

"Scared? Well… I don't really want to disappoint anyone, and I don't want things to repeat the same way they did last time…" Azumane trailed off, hesitating before he spoke again. "So I guess… yes—I am scared."

Megumi blinked in surprise. She had expected some kind of lecture about being more respectful to her upperclassman, or even a reasonable suggestion for her to ' _mind her own business_ '. Instead, Azumane was replying to her seriously, and was even admitting his insecurities to someone he barely knew. He was more sensitive than Megumi could've imagined—especially for someone with his physique.

"I—I see…" Megumi said quietly, biting her lip. While she  _had_  been in these types of situations more times than she cared to admit, finding the right words was still a challenge. Megumi wasn't exactly the most ebullient or motivational person—that was Nishinoya's strong suit—so her mind simply whirled as she pursed her lips tightly.

"S—Sorry…" Azumane said sheepishly, lifting his hand to the back of his neck in a half-hearted manner albeit the weak attempt at defusing his self-doubt only seemed further highlight it. "Even though Nishinoya's probably told you that I'm the ace, and that I'm supposed to be the team's pillar… To feel like this is kind of pathetic, isn't it?"

Pathetic?

"No, it isn't." Megumi shook her head, the words she had pondered over suddenly coming instantly to her mind. "I don't think so… Nishinoya-kun doesn't expect you to shoulder anything by yourself, and I'm sure no one else does either."

Azumane faltered at that, his feet shifting uncomfortably beneath him. "…I know that," he admitted, but still sounded unconvinced of his own words. "But I can't get the thought of being shut down out of my head. I know I'm not alone on court, but I'm the ace. I can't feel this way—I…I feel like I'm not worthy."

With his expression growing more downtrodden as he spoke, Azumane sighed deeply as his hand drifted slowly down his neck.

Truthfully, Megumi understood how he felt in some ways and while she had never been as impressive as Azumane was the feelings were still there; wishing to live up to expectation—crumbling when she didn't reach them. She had forced herself to let go, but it had taken a piece of her each time and left the bitter taste of regret forever in its place.

Perhaps she could've continued and genuinely enjoyed playing volleyball, had she not given up in the way she did. However, unlike her—Azumane clearly hadn't given up.

He was simply  _scared_ —of disappointing his teammates, of costing his team the game and of not living up to the expectations he had set for himself.

"I don't think that's for you to decide. Y—Your own worth as a player, I mean…" Megumi said softly, her gaze avoiding everywhere but Azumane.

With her gaze focused elsewhere, she couldn't quite discern what kind of expression he was making, but suspected it was something akin to surprise—judging by the way his feet had stilled their shuffling. Megumi took a small breath, tilting her head in another direction before she continued.

"The 'ace' isn't a position. It's a title given to the strongest attacker of the team—the player the team can rely on when things get rough during a match." Megumi clasped her hands together, holding them close to her chest. Her words were shaky—unsure, yet resolute at the same time. "Everyone recognises you as the ace because they recognise you as strong. You're… worth more to the team than you believe, Azumane-san."

Azumane smiled at that. It wasn't as if Megumi had said anything profound or life-changing she was only stating the facts after all, and yet Azumane's nerves seemed to have calmed down slightly; albeit he still appeared restless.

"Thank you, Miyamura," he said earnestly. His neutral expression returned, although there was a noticeable change in his visage—the furrow in his brow Megumi hadn't noticed before was gone.

Then Megumi was the one sheepishly glancing away. "U—Um… that's just what I think anyway. I'm sorry if I was acting out of line, o—or being disrespectful in any way."

"No. I think I needed that… You're easy to talk to, Miyamura, and you're very understanding," Azumane complimented, and Megumi felt the tip of her ears grow warm from the praise. "It's no wonder why Nishinoya likes you so much."

Megumi almost choked from that.

She might've actually  _believed_  Nishinoya had a crush on her if she didn't already know about his crush on Shimizu—especially considering how much Nishinoya seemed to be teased for hanging out with her.

She wondered if it bothered him—he didn't have any romantic feelings for her after all. Wasn't it annoying to be paired with someone when you had a crush on someone else?

Shaking her head, Megumi regarded Azumane closely. He was still nervous—albeit considerably more high-spirited than he had been when she first encountered him. If anything, as soon as he left to go on court, the nerves would more than likely return.

"Dateko…" Azumane said, glancing down to his palms with a contemplative frown. The base of his palms were noticeably pinker than usual—likely from his perspiration and the humidity in the hallways. "They're strong…"

"…Azu—"

"ASAHI!"

The captain's voice boomed throughout the quiet hallways and both Azumane and herself were startled out of their conversation. Turning her head towards the direction of the A-Block courts, Sawamura and Sugawara approached Megumi and Azumane with slightly exasperated expressions on the formers' faces—hands tucked into their pockets.

"So this is where you were?" Sugawara said, passing by Megumi to talk to Azumane. Sugawara placed his hands on Azumane's shoulders, pushing him towards the courts. "Warm-ups started a few minutes ago, come on."

"A—Ah! Sorry! I just lost track of time…"

Megumi cleared her throat uncomfortably, feeling slightly guilty about distracting Azumane. "Yes… um… It's my fault for keeping him here."

Sawamura waved her off calmly. "No, no, it's fine. We'll head there now. Do you want to come with us, Miyamura?"

Miyamura nodded stiffly in reply, suddenly feeling unnerved by the realisation that she was surrounded by  _third-years_. Azumane had been intimidating enough on his own but with the other third years, she felt out of place and uncomfortable. While the three of them had seemed kind enough, Megumi was no stranger to an upperclassman pulling rank on her—especially with all the club transfers she'd gone through in middle school.

Sports clubs had always been  _the worst_.

Soon enough, the four of them departed for the A-Block. The brisk walk hadn't taken too long—less than two minutes. Azumane and Sugawara had taken the lead, the latter muttering something lowly and incoherent to Azumane, whom simply gnawed his lip in thought as they continued their silent exchanges.

It wasn't too hard to figure out what they were discussing—strategies, or likely another a more general conversation about going up against Datekougyou.

Sawamura walked beside her as Megumi observed the two before her, simply watching the light from the large windows filter over their bodies as they walked. The vinyl floor practically glowed beneath their feet, their shadows stretching their full length over the floors

They had arrived at the courts shortly after that, and Megumi departed from the three of them—walking up the steps to the stands at her own pace. Behind her, the typical communication calls echoed throughout the gymnasium, and the sounds of shoes squeaking against the floors reached her ears—balls bouncing off forearms with a loud impact. Strangely enough, the buzz in her chest she had felt just before the Nekoma match had returned—setting her alight heart in flames of anticipation.

Somehow, the boys' team had a strange allure that the girls' team had simply lacked—a sort of charismatic energy she couldn't put into words. Being here and watching, it was a feeling that a video couldn't capture.

So with newly renewed energy, Megumi found her place behind the Karasuno banner with her pen and paper in hand.

* * *

 

"ROLLING… THUNDER AGAIN!"

A few minutes into the first receiving drill, Nishinoya had already managed to boost the morale and the match  _hadn't even started yet_. It was reassuring enough to see that Nishinoya hadn't lost his cool, even under the immense pressure of Datekougyou's presence on the other side of the net, but he hadn't simply stopped there. Instead, he went the extra mile to bring up the energy and ease up the tension on court in the most ridiculous but  _Nishinoya_  of ways. A perfect receive—complete with a dive and roll, capped off with Nishinoya jumping back to his feet without missing a beat.

Rolling… thunder…? What a name.

The whole gymnasium was silenced into awe and even Datekougyou seemed to falter—temporarily pausing their drill to stare at Nishinoya, whom seemed particularly pleased with the stunt he'd just pulled off. Karasuno themselves reacted in a mixture of awe, admiration, stifled laughter and teasing—much to Nishinoya's chagrin that 'the name is perfect! Damn it, Ryuu!'.

Megumi couldn't help the snicker that escaped under her breath, and she ducked her head behind the railing—her forehead resting against the wooden railing that was cool against her skin.

He was such… such an idiot, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't a little impressed.

"Alright! There's nothing to worry about!" Nishinoya's arms left his sides, opening wide to gesture to the whole team. He grinned confidently, radiating the positivity and reassurance the team had needed. His eyes were trained on one person—the person that had needed to hear his words the most. "Everyone, keep your eyes forward. You have me protecting your backs."

Everyone seemed stunned for a few moments, even Kageyama whom Megumi recalled being the serious type of character.

"S—So… SO COOOOOL!"

Standing towards the back of the group, Azumane seemed to stare at Nishinoya in a daze—his mouth open in semi-shock. It was small, but Megumi could see it—a smile, a genuinely relieved smile with his worries completely mollified and gone. Once again, Megumi found herself admiring Nishinoya and his ability to simply encourage and bring up the confidence of the people around him. It was something she could never learn—the charisma and charm of someone so incredibly likeable.

Her heart thumped in her chest, and she gazed down at the first note she had taken down from the match.

_Libero: position primarily responsible for team's defence. Nishinoya Yuu is a great libero not only for his skills, but his ability to energise the people around him. Important for mental sport like volleyball._

After some time had elapsed, Nishinoya's gaze met her own for a split-second from the courts below before he quickly snapped his attention away to spike flying directly towards his head. Almost instinctive, he sprang back—still in the path of the ball—and ball bounced off his forearms into a high arc towards the net. The action was done with practiced ease, looking completely natural as if it was second nature to him—which it probably  _was_ , considering Nishinoya's extreme talent as a libero.

It was almost as if he had been trying to tell her something, though she couldn't decipher anything in that brief moment of eye contact. If she had to guess, it was likely about the unresolved tension between them.

Either way, the receive had been impressive. Had it been Megumi, she probably would've just legged it and jumped out of the path of the incoming spike.

Throughout the next ten or fifteen minutes, the warmups cycled through the typical drills as always. Spiking from position four, followed by spiking from position two, then serving until it was time for the match to begin. Both teams went through the formalities as usual, lining up on each end of the court and bowing to each other—the loud call of 'let's play' echoing over to the other courts before they joined at the net to exchange handshakes with members of the opposing team.

Then it was time for the match to begin.

The match started off shakily, however, in Karasuno's favour. Read-blocking, which was apparently a type of blocking Datekougyou had perfected, was a term that Megumi hadn't studied very much but was thrown around loosely in the crowd behind her. Datekougyou weren't exactly as cunning and as intelligent as Nekoma had been, but they'd made up for that with their reliable blocks—almost shutting down Hinata's first spike of the game, a slide hit.

"… _I can't get the thought of being shut down out of my head…"_

So this is what Azumane had meant by 'shut down'—a block, that quite literally  _shut down_  an attack.

The game continued back and forth for a few more points. Megumi only picked up her pen again when Azumane seemed to perform a move he hadn't done in the game against Nekoma. A back attack apparently, which utilised the wing spiker even when they weren't available in the front court for an attack. Despite failing, Megumi furiously scribbled down notes into her notebook—observing the game meticulously, like a crow analysing the movements of their prey.

At the very least, Azumane hadn't seemed too discouraged—contrary to the despondent attitude he had displayed in the hallways before the match.

Still, Megumi had to admit that Datekougyou was  _scarily impressive_  with the accuracy of their blocks. Although Karasuno was ahead of Datekougyou in points, it wasn't as if Karasuno was gaining those points with ease. They hadn't built up any momentum, and thus majority of the set so far had been a rally of back-and-forth—neither team backing down to give the other side any sort of advantage.

It was no wonder why Datekougyou had earned the title of 'the iron wall'—and it was only the first set.

Of course, only a few points later, Karasuno finally revealed their hand—their trump card of Kageyama and Hinata's god-like quick. It had taken all her willpower not to grin like an idiot at the looks of astonishment on the Datekougyou players' faces—unable to process the spike that had completely slipped past their defences.

Megumi felt her internal grin widen even more when Hinata and Kageyama performed the same unique spike once again, the looks on the players' and coach's faces dropping even further when they realised  _it hadn't been luck that got them the point the first time around_. Suppressing the immature, childish urge to point and laugh at Datekougyou's naiveté, Megumi continued her diligent notetaking—unfortunately having to lift her eyes from the match to perform her duties as a journalist.

"Eh…? M Miyamura-san?"

With Datekougyou's coach calling a time out on the courts, Megumi lifted her pen from the page—turning around to glance at the person calling her name. It was a first-year, one of the players from the girls' team that had witnessed Megumi's unpleasant dispute with Suzuki. The girl's eyebrows were knitted together in thought as her team approached Megumi from behind her.

Michimiya placed her hand on the first-year's shoulder, gently pushing past the girl to stand face-to-face with Megumi. Unsure of what kind of business the girls could possibly have with her, Megumi tilted her head curiously. Before her, Michimiya appeared no worse for wear. Although her eyes were slightly puffy around the rims, her expression was not one of sadness or sorrow but was instead, rather neutral—as if she had completely moved on from her loss.

It was surprising, considering how their loss had only happened two hours ago.

Michimiya ran her hands through her hair, concern on her face as she glanced out to observe how the boys were playing so far—then turned her attention back onto Megumi. "I heard about what happened with Suzuki-san, did you talk with her?"

Ah… of course.

Megumi winced to herself, averting her eyes. "N—No… I couldn't find her. I'm… sorry about causing so much trouble."

Michimiya's eyes seemed to widen in surprise, and she suddenly shook her head vigorously—as if to reassure Megumi that she was not to blame. Her hands left her scalp, making jazz hands in front of her in tandem with the shaking of her head.

"No, no! I wasn't blaming you or anything! I know Suzuki can be a handful," Michimiya said, "but I heard you handled the situation perfectly, Miyamura!"

Megumi frowned at that. "No… I didn't. In the end, I… I just caused needless conflict with Suzuki-san."

The girls of the volleyball team glanced around at each other—a silent message passing around with only the eyes. ' _Anything involving Suzuki was needless conflict_ ' and ' _can't Suzuki just stop bothering us?_ '. A few of the girls had already lost interest in the conversation at hand, their eyes glued to the match unfolding below. Neither Michimiya nor the vice-captain appeared particularly pleased with Suzuki's disappearance, unlike the other girls, and their brows furrowed in worry rather than annoyance.

Michimiya sighed, her head drooping slightly. "I'll… I'll go search for Suzuki."

"Yui…? Won't you miss the match?"

"It's fine!" Michimiya waved off, giving a tight smile to the rest of the team. "I can just ask for the results later. I'm the captain of this team after all, and I'm responsible for Suzuki!"

With Michimiya's tone of finality, the girls began to shuffle away from Megumi—seeing no reason to hang around someone they were barely acquainted with. The vice-captain lingered for a bit, only trailing behind the girls after Michimiya had nodded to her confidently. In truth, Megumi was relieved to be away from them. The only thing she had in common with the girls' team was her non-existent dislike of Suzuki Kaede, which was probably the only thing the girls would talk about if they wanted to strike up a conversation with Megumi.

The girls passed by two men whom leaned against the railing to observe Karasuno's match, and Megumi vaguely recalled them as the spectators from the Nekoma match back in the start of May. They gave fleeting glances to Megumi and Michimiya, likely curious about what they had been discussing.

From an outsider's perspective, the exchange had probably appeared somewhat shady—an entire band of girls crowding around Megumi like observers of a fighting ring.

Michimiya seemed to stand in place for a few moments, gazing down at her feet and breathing deeply. It was almost as if she trying to psyche herself up, turning her attention ahead with a look of determination. Just as Megumi was about to speak up, Michimiya slapped her cheeks loudly—startling Megumi in the process.

She had known Michimiya was a little intense… but Megumi didn't think that involved  _physically hitting herself._

"U—Uh… um…" Megumi blinked, stammering her words until she could find the right words to say catching Michimiya's attention. "I can go instead—to find Suzuki-san, I mean. You really wanted to watch the match, right… Michimiya-san?"

Michimiya shook her head, patting Megumi roughly on the shoulder. "You're supposed to write an article, right?" Michimiya then retracted her hand, grinning reassuringly. "Don't worry about me, I'll go and find Suzuki!"

"But…" Megumi trailed off and glanced down briefly at her notes, untouched since her encounter with the girls' team. Overall, she had missed two or three points—all of which were points Datekougyou had lost attempting to adjust to Karasuno's reveal of their trump card.

It was only the first set. If the match went over to three sets—well, her article wouldn't be in the least bit satisfactory even by Megumi's standards.

Even so… she was still responsible for Suzuki's turmoil in the first place.

"I'm glad though…" Michimiya said quietly, her wide grin diminishing slightly. "…that you care about Suzuki when no one else does. I feel like I should be stricter with them—not just with respecting Suzuki, but also with everything else too…"

Megumi looked away just as Datekougyou's middle blocker, #7, made an impressive double jump and successfully shut down Hinata's quick. #7 pumped his fists victoriously, an almost primal roar ripping out from his throat. She felt undeserving of the praise, because simply  _caring_  about another person was a natural and basic human instinct.

When Michimiya sensed that Megumi's response was  _silence_ , she smiled. "Well, I should get going. Good luck on the article, Miyamura!"

Megumi nodded, ending off the conversation with a soft, " _thank you_."

For the next few minutes, Megumi had been distracted with her thoughts. While her attention had been brought back to the game before her, her mind was elsewhere—wondering where Suzuki had hidden herself for the past two hours without being found. She drummed her pen against the railing, scrawling lazy notes on her page after reminding herself that she had a  _job_ —to record and translate the match in front of her into an attention-grabbing article.

The deluge of thoughts in her head only vanished when Hinata raced to the centre of the net—jumping to his max height and swinging with no reserve. #7 roared Hinata's number, matching Hinata's height with his block jump.

Megumi closed her eyes as the referee blew the whistle, indicating Karasuno had won the point. Her hand was already moving against the paper, scribbling incomprehensible notes that she would decipher later—a pipe, back attack, decoy… If being up in the stands—watching the plays unfold before her eyes—was enough to take her breath away, Megumi wondered how it was like for the players down below.

Karasuno ended up winning the first set and going into the second set—it was clear that Datekougyou was  _learning_. The point difference throughout the second had been a steady one-to-two points, neither team letting up—each team continuing their attacks mercilessly. Eventually, Karasuno reached match point and Megumi raked her fingers through her hair—breathing shakily.

Her heart was drumming in her chest, fingers clammy as they gripped tightly around her pen. The pressure on court was unbearable, twisting her chest in a tightly woven coil of tension.

The final point against Datekougyou started off with blocking Azumane's first hit, which had somehow been saved with Nishinoya diving across the backcourt to lift the ball back up into the air. The dive itself hadn't been the safest of dives, but when Nishinoya's body rolled to a stop, he immediately snapped his head up to ball he'd just saved pure adrenaline pumping through his veins.'

She had winced slightly at the painful-looking fall, but Nishinoya's attention was only on the ball—on the  _game_.

That save alone had nearly been enough for her heart to pound out of her chest, but apparently, the fates thought that stopping her heart  _once_  hadn't been enough. Nishinoya's save had been enough to continue to point, but Kageyama's pass coming off the receive had been too close to the net—resulting in a struggle of dominance between Azumane and #7 above the net.

Megumi felt herself flatlining when Azumane lost his grip on the ball.

Her breath came out in a cool chill as the muscles in her arms tensed and her hands tightened around her mouth. She was enraptured, completely absorbed into the game as the ball descended towards the ground in a hue of blue and yellow. The players were seemingly frozen in place, unable to react.

Agility. Reflexes. Reaction.

Without batting an eye, Nishinoya's foot shot out beneath him—and everything after that erupted into  _chaos_.

He had saved the ball.  _He had saved the ball_.  _Again._   _WITH HIS FOOT_!

Megumi buried her head in her hands, unable to hold back the laughter that bubbled out of her throat and the ear-splitting grin that forced its way to her face. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she leaned her weight into the wooden railing in front of her. It was Nishinoya. Of course it was Nishinoya. Who else could it be? Who else could be so reckless? So unpredictable? So impulsive?

It was only him.

Azumane pulled back from the net, sweat flying off his brow as he transitioned into his run-up. His gaze was focused only on the ball in front of him, his movements smooth and his jump powerful. His arm was positioned behind his head, swinging at his highest point once the ball had positioned itself before him.

The ball made impact with his palm and this time, the iron wall was the one that crumbled.

Karasuno had won the set, twenty-two to twenty-five—and the match, two to zero. They had won. They'd won against the team they had previously lost against. They'd overcome the team that caused them so much grief—so many bitter memories, and so many stinging insecurities.

"… _He's not supposed to be thinking about stuff like his spikes not getting through, because I'm supposed to be the one to give him another chance."_

" _Y'know, I'm kind of nervous to go up against Dateko. They beat the crap out of us last time, and Asahi-san's been worrying so much about it."_

" _I can't get the thought of being shut down out of my head. I know I'm not alone on court, but I'm the ace. I can't feel this way_ — _I…I feel like I'm not worthy."_

They did it… They won… They really won…

Megumi finally looked back down on court once the shock of the initial win had subsided and the full team had lined up in front of the stands. Her eyes found Nishinoya's before he gave her a close-eyed grin, sending her a thumbs up and a wave along with it. She was so happy—happy for the team, happy for their victory, just so, so  _happy_. The feeling was bubbling and bursting out of her chest, a sort of pure positivity that she wasn't quite used too.

And it was volleyball that had brought it out of her—after so long.

The spectators in the stands broke out into applause—a myriad of congratulations raining down on the winning team. Some of the third years players on court were conversing with the third years in the stands, and Megumi caught something along the lines of Michimiya's name. Tanaka and Nishinoya had jumped at the chance to fawn over a third-year named 'Aya', whom simply waved back bashfully in response to their eagerness.

Apparently, Shimizu wasn't the only one they fawned over. She didn't know what to think about that.

Soon enough, the team departed from their places in front of their audience. The spectators had begun to vacate the stands—slowly filing out into the hallways as the one of the final matches had concluded for the day.

With her notes and stationary packed away neatly into her backpack, Megumi trailed after the departing visitors—flexing her fingers at her sides as her callouses pulsed wearily from overuse.

Slowly, she was beginning to form a new regard—about volleyball, and about Nishinoya.

* * *

 

Her first priorities after the match had been to interview both the girls' and boys' team, and thus she had done exactly that. The whole idea of 'interviews' had been awkward enough—even more so when it was clear that the girls' team hadn't been taking the interviews seriously. The boys had been cooperative enough, seeing as they'd been in good spirits after their win against Datekougyou. The girls on the other hand? Not so much.

At most, Megumi had managed to pry out a word or two from the girls and if she was lucky—a sentence. Even so, the sentences had been fragmented and awkward to read on paper. It wasn't as if Megumi was a professional, but even an amateur such as herself knew sufficient quotes were unsalvageable from the pointless interviews she'd conducted.

She'd probably have better luck with the vice-captain, or even Michimiya if the latter could be found.

Either way, she had done what she had needed to—fully intending to make her way back to the entrance before she had gotten  _lost_.

For a few minutes, Megumi had been wandering around the gymnasium as she attempted to regain her bearings of the venue. The boys' team were waiting for her back at the entrance and getting lost like this was simply  _embarrassing_. Her steps were slow and paces, eyes scanning the surrounding area for any distinguishing features she might recognise. The overhead signs read the current location—F-Block—which wasn't exactly helpful considering how she had passed the same sign twice before.

Sighing to herself, Megumi lowered her head as she turned right—having turned left previously—only for her to smash her face into someone's chest.

"Ah… sorry," Megumi bowed, apologising for colliding into the man around the corner. She gingerly brushed stray hairs to the side of her face, fingers finding their way to the bobby pins clipping the hair to her scalp behind her ears. She had toppled back slightly from the impact, one of her hands pressed against the wall to balance herself.

The man she had walked into adjusted his glasses, slightly disoriented from the collision.

Another man with blonde hair halted to a stop behind him, "Shimada—"

The man named Shimada jumped and pointed to her, eyes wide in recognition. "Ah! You're Megumi… Miyamura Megumi, aren't you?"

"Megumi-chan?!" His friend whipped around to take a look at her, his wide eyes lighting up in recognition like a candle in the darkness. "It  _is_  you!"

Megumi winced at the over-familiar nickname, and it struck her that she  _hadn't_ heard such an affectionate pet name for years. The people in front of her were the spectators from the Datekougyou match—and the same spectators that had watched the Nekoma match. The only word she could use to describe the familiarity she felt was  _'déjà vu_ '—because she  _didn't_ know the people before her, and yet their appearances tickled something at the back of her mind.

Her exterior expression remained blank, reflecting nothing of how she felt  _internally_. The vague memories were difficult to give substance to, like trying to name a song from knowing a single lyric alone.

"Y—Yes…?" Megumi finally answered. She still couldn't place where she knew these people from, and the feeling of ignorance was beginning to exasperate her. "Um… do I know you?"

Shimada—the one with glasses—laughed light-heartedly, seemingly unphased by her lack of recollection. "Well, I guess it was ten years ago! How's Miyamura-sensei doing now?"

Miyamura-sensei…? But… that was—

His friend introduced himself. "I'm Takinoue. Miyamura-sensei used to be our club advisor, and you usually came to watch our practices after school. Do you remember?"

"Kind of…" Megumi said, giving the two a tight smile. The memories had begun to resurface—her first contact with volleyball, and how intimidated she had been by the boys that had been so much taller and older than she had been. That had been her first spark of interest in the sport, one that wouldn't be snuffed out until a couple of years later. "I remember bits and pieces… I think I was only seven or eight though, back then."

"What about Miyamura-sensei?" Shimada asked, and judging from the casualness in his tone, Megumi figured that he didn't know  _what had happened_. "Last time I heard, Sensei suddenly had family issues to deal with…"

Suddenly being put on the spot, Megumi struggled to find the words.

"Miyamura-sensei… U—Uh yeah… well…" Megumi bit her lip, her heart spiking in intensity in her chest. Every nerve in her body burned, every word catching on her short breaths. For old memories to be trudged up so suddenly, she didn't know how to  _react._ "She's not around anymore. I mean, she's not ' _gone_ ' gone but she's just not…"

Here.

And Megumi had tried so  _damn_  hard to forget too.

The two men seemed to read between the lines, understanding that they'd dipped a foot beyond an unspoken, forbidden boundary. They glanced at each for a brief second, then quickly changed the topic.

"Still…" Shimada reminisced. "I never thought I'd see Miyamura-sensei's daughter take up her reigns. Are you a manager by any chance, Megumi?"

Megumi shook her head, a wry smile on her lips. "That would be kind of unoriginal for someone like me… I'm a journalist for the journalism club."

She heard Shimada mumbling something along the lines of, " _but I thought it was the newspaper club?_ " and chose not to dignify him with a response.

"Ahh! So that's why you were at the Nekoma match! I didn't recognise you at first though!" Takinuoe said, nodding in approval. "You've grown up into a fine girl, Megumi-chan."

Megumi simply ducked her head in embarrassment, whispering out a small, wobbly ' _thank you_ '—her ears warm from the compliment. Her mouth was dry when she looked up and she paused, wondering just how to phrase the next question. "W—What brought you to watch the match today? I know it can't be easy to come in on a working day…"

Takinoue opened his mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by Shimada. "Well, Dateko and Karasuno have a bit of history, y'know?" Megumi nodded when Shimada turned to look at her. "It was definitely going to be an interesting match."

"You're just here cause' of your student."

"Shut up."

"Student?" Megumi asked, ears perking up in interest. "Who?"

"Yamaguchi Tadashi…" Shimada answers, pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. "Does the name ring a bell?"

Megumi shook her head, though she tilted her head in contemplation. Her thoughts had gone hazy once again, and fingers raking under her curls into the base of her skull. Megumi only knew two first-years, Hinata and Kageyama—and the only third-years on the team were Azumane, Sawamura and Sugawara; barring the manager, Shimizu Kiyoko.

"Is that a first-year…?" She asked, expecting to be reaffirmed by the Shimada.

He nodded, and Megumi filed the name away into her head for later use. Yamaguchi Tadashi, huh? Interesting…

"Right… um… Do you happen to know the way back to the entrance?" Megumi asked weakly, her cheeks flushing from resorting to admitting her  _marginal_  lack of direction. "I've been in this area for a while… so…"

Takinoue chuckled, his hand making its way to the top of head and ruffling her locks out of place. "Still too stubborn to ask for help, huh? You haven't changed much at all, Megumi-chan."

Megumi snapped her gaze away, too flustered to speak.

Shimada laughed as well, pointing back the way she'd came. "If you just head straight down the hallway and turn right when you meet a wall, you should be in the main foyer. Do you know your way from there?"

Nodding to him, Megumi stepped away from the two men and waved a small farewell—watching them vanish behind the corner. True to Shimada's word, she'd followed his directions exactly and ended up in the main foyer. The 'moon face' on the wall gazed down in disdain upon her—mocking her for taking so long to find her way back to a recognisable area.

She almost scoffed to herself wondering how a simple wall decoration could hold so much scorn in a single, frozen expression.

Leaving the venue, Megumi met up the boys' team whom were chatting amongst themselves outside a bus. Nishinoya had waved to her, only turning around to bicker with Tanaka when he'd said something inaudible to her ears. Hinata had also waved to her, calling her name and catching the attention of everyone else in the process.

She jogged over to the group, only stopping when Ukai stepped in front of her. "You done with everything? We're gonna head off soon."

Megumi nodded, subconsciously adapting her speech to a more formal tone of voice. In Ukai's presence—which was still intimidating (albeit less) even after the initial meeting—she straightened up her posture and cleared her throat. "Yes, I'm done. I'm sorry for keeping everyone waiting."

Ukai seemed satisfied enough with the excuse and instead turned to the team, ordering the boys to start filing onto the bus for departure. With the recent conversation she had with Takinoue and Shimada about her mother fresh in her mind, Megumi had to wonder why Ukai hadn't seemed to recognise her surname the first time she'd written for the team. He'd been on the same high school team as Shimada and Takinoue and from the disjointed, fragmented memories she could recall, Ukai had seemed to like her mother as much as the other two men had.

Did he simply just not mention it? Or had he been informed enough already?

Finding her seat towards the back of the bus, Megumi plopped down into the window seat. She rested her elbow against the sill of the window, eyes drooping as the engine of the bus fired up in rumbling vibrations.

She was exhausted, taking a moment to rest her eyes didn't seem like such a bad idea…

Megumi had already begun to drift off before she could finish the thought.

* * *

 

Megumi had been startled out of her dreamland with a dip in the leather of the seat beneath her. Someone was sitting down next to her and she wondered if the bus had arrived back at school yet.

Peering out of the cracks in her eyelids however, Megumi's consciousness wearily faded back into reality—and reality looked a lot like unrecognisable farmland. The local mountains near Karasuno were nowhere in view and instead of the towering masses in the sky like she expected, Megumi was greeted with the pale glow of the descending sunset—painting the skies in hues of oranges, reds and yellows over a flat horizon.

The photogenic—almost artificial scene—before her was a sight to behold, but in that moment, she was more annoyed at whoever or  _whatever_  had disturbed her from the sweet release of sleep. Her limbs were groggy and stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position and Megumi shifted her body away from the window. The cramped space between her seat and the back of another seat was barely enough for Megumi to stretch out her limbs in, but the relief was welcomed regardless.

The person next to her stiffened, a sound of a sharp inhale reaching her ears when they'd realised she'd begun to rouse from her slumber.

"Miyamura? Sorry, did I wake you?"

Nishinoya's voice was a low, apologetic whisper and Megumi's head lolled lazily to the side—eyes still half-lidded as she regarded him tiredly.

Megumi groaned, slowly sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She was still blinking rapidly when Nishinoya's face came into focus. "Mmm… what is it?"

Nishinoya seemed to fiddle with something on his seat and Megumi heard the quiet click of his seatbelt locking into place. He looked uncomfortable, his hand half-lifted towards the back of his head—as if he wanted to say something but didn't know how to.

His hair looked slightly more dishevelled than the last time she saw him. A few strands of hair fell over his forehead much like the blonde lock that usually hung over his face. Whatever hair product he usually used was beginning to lose its effect, and his hair had begun to fall back into its natural place. Although most of his hair was still held in place, Megumi was still struck with how  _different_  he looked without looking too much different at all.

"I wanted to talk," he claimed, looking surprisingly serious as he said so. "I was gonna wait until after you woke up though."

"s' fine," she said sluggishly, still half-asleep and struggling to fight off the urge to drift off again. "I'm awake now, aren't I?"

Nishinoya looked away and ran a hand through his hair. For the first time, she'd noticed the nearly-pensive silence on the bus. Not a single person spoke, and yet the atmosphere wasn't strained or palpable—but rather tranquil and content. The players were all dozing off their exhaustion just like she had been mere minutes ago. Megumi could only hear the gentle purr of the bus's engine beneath her and the driver's subtle movements at the front of the bus.

Nishinoya had been the only person on board that had been active, barring the driver and herself—whom he'd just woken up.

"Aren't you tired from today, Nishinoya-kun?" Megumi asked, rubbing her eyes wearily with the back of her hand. Her voice was barely audible, words slurred from sleep. "I mean—the Datekougyou match  _was_  pretty long after all…"

"Kind of…" Nishinoya said, frowning slightly as he leaned back into his seat. Across the aisle on Nishinoya's left, Tanaka was laying slouched against the window, quietly snoring in contrast to the huge mouthfuls of air he gulped in with each rise of his chest. The seat beside Tanaka was empty, and Megumi suspected that was where Nishinoya had been seated before he joined her.

"Kind of?"

"Well, yeah… but I was just thinking about something." Nishinoya took short glances towards her, the awkwardness in his tone growing more and more obvious with each word. "Something that happened…  _earlier today_."

Megumi's brows furrowed in confusion. The vague answer hadn't really clarified anything—she was still as clueless as she had been before. Nishinoya was being rather evasive in both his body language and his word choice—reminding her of herself, in some ways.

She didn't reply and after a moment's silence, he spoke up somewhat hesitantly—a great contrast from his usual boldness. "Uh… So, are we okay…?"

The discomfort, the awkwardness and the hesitance suddenly made sense. Megumi's eyes widened in recognition, recalling the argument they'd had earlier that day. In the midst of the excitement of the Datekougyou match, she'd completely forgotten about her harshness. How could she be so entitled? Of course he wouldn't have forgotten.

Her face must've fallen in that instance and Megumi lowered her gaze to her feet hands tucking away under her thighs. "I—I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said something like that. It was uncalled for."

" _Nishinoya-kun, it's none of my business—and none of yours either."_

Megumi bit her lip, her eyes still averted. From her peripheral view, Nishinoya appeared to shift in his seat and the rumbling of the engine suddenly grew louder—almost more oppressive in tandem with the turbulence in her chest. "I'd understand if you're angry, or annoyed, or frustrated, or—"

"No! I'm not!" Nishinoya cut in, a harsh whisper-shout permeating the reposeful atmosphere of the quiet bus. The players on board were none the wiser when Nishinoya realised his disruptiveness and lowered his tone, looking away from her with reluctant countenance. "Why would I be angry at you, Miyamura? It was my fault you got mad anyway."

He thought it was… his fault…? Megumi shook her head vehemently, leaning closer to him to get her point across. "No, I really appreciated that you cared, but I just…" Suzuki's shouts rung again in her ears. "…I didn't want to bother you with my problems, and I ended up taking it too far. I offended you…"

Clearing her throat, Megumi took the initiative to apologise properly apologise. "So um… I'm… I'm sorry."

Nishinoya looked up, staring at her before a mellow smile found its way on his face—different from his usual bright, carefree grins. "I'm sorry too," he said, following suit with his own apology. "I didn't mean to make you so uncomfortable."

She returned his smile with a nod. "Then we're okay now, aren't we Nishinoya-kun?"

"Yeah." Nishinoya seemed lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Megumi hadn't known their argument had bothered him so much and a feeling of guilt buried its way into her chest, throbbing dully as she leaned into her seat. "Still, I mean… y'know you can trust me, right Miyamura?"

His gaze lingered on her for a second longer than usual and Megumi's breath caught in her throat. There had been something different about his expression, and not just because of the hair that had begun to fall over his forehead. His eyes were brown, a little darker than her own eyes, and just by a simple glance, she was suddenly acutely aware of Nishinoya— _captivated_  even.

She'd seen this side of him before, but somehow it felt a little different.

'Eyes are the windows to one's soul', as they usually said.

"I—I know…" Megumi said, suddenly unnerved by his hard stare drilling holes into her skull. She laughed—an awkward, forced kind of laughter that couldn't be passed off as natural no matter how hard she tried to justify it. "It's not like I'll forget what you said anytime soon… It was really cool and you were really cool, so…"

Nishinoya choked, suddenly stammering out a response.

"Gah!" Nishinoya buried his face into elbow, a bright red hue on his cheeks. "Don't say stuff like that out of nowhere, Miyamura! Guys will get the wrong idea for sure!"

Megumi covered her mouth with her hand, hiding a smile under her fingers. "That's fine though, isn't it?" Nishinoya looked a little caught off guard, and Megumi hurried to elaborate. "We're just friends after all, and you have a crush on Shimizu-san, don't you?"

"Y—You know?" Nishinoya sounded a little more wary than she expected him to be, as if his crush on Shimizu was some kind of closely-guarded secret.

Megumi nodded, wondering why a look of disappointment crossed his expression for a split-second. "It was kind of obvious, so um… yeah…"

Nishinoya opened his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted from an abruptly loud snore coming from Tanaka across the aisle. Megumi immediately slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling the snort of laughter that almost bubbled out of her throat.

Nishinoya looked over to Tanaka, an amused expression on his visage.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest, Nishinoya-kun?" Megumi asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Judging from the unfamiliar topography of the passing landscape, she estimated that the bus trip still had another half an hour or more to go. "You've had a long day, after all."

Nishinoya seemed reluctant to agree with her, but he was undeniably  _tired_ —even from Megumi's perspective. His movements had been limited in the restricted space of the seat, but his eyes had been half-lidded and movements lethargic. After a moment, he nodded to her—seemingly beginning to drift off.

"Alright… Megumi…" He said, and Megumi's eyes shot open. He was exhausted, likely having said her  _first_  name without realising. "Sorry."

Megumi mumbled out something incomprehensible, even to herself.

Nishinoya groaned, adjusting the way he sat to lean his head back against the seat. After a few minutes, he was unresponsive to the world and Megumi sat alone, quietly watching the world spin through the evening into the dawn of night.

The night sky never changed, huh? Still as halcyon as ever.

She didn't know when her vision had become groggy again, but sometime after the sun had completely dipped under the horizon for the day, Nishinoya's head lolled onto her shoulder and Megumi had simply let him—making no moves to push his head off her shoulder. She had no energy left to adjust the way she was sitting, as well as adjust the way Nishinoya was sleeping as well.

With her eyes refusing to remain open, Megumi had begun to lose herself to sleep too—and she willed herself to reply to Nishinoya properly before the last on her consciousness dissolved away.

"Goodnight… Yuu."

* * *

 

**EXTRA SCENE**

[Tanaka Ryuunosuke]:  _Yo, Noya-san_

[Tanaka Ryuunosuke]:  _(attached file: [sleeping_friends_sure.png])_

[Nishinoya Yuu]:  _GO TO HELL_   _WHY DID YOU TAKE A PICTURE OF THIS_

[Tanaka Ryuunosuke]:  _i dunno you guys looked cute_

[Nishinoya Yuu]:  _WHAt THE HELL RYUU_

[Tanaka Ryuunosuke]:  _heh_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I write so many scenes with Megumi falling asleep because I'm a light-sleeper myself. Someone that is honestly bad at sleeping. What a talent.
> 
> Date of Publish - (09.05.2019)


End file.
